


Crystal Ball

by BLThompson



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fix-It, Flirting, Fluff, Future, Love, POV Beth, POV Daryl Dixon, Prophetic Visions, Protective Daryl Dixon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 89,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLThompson/pseuds/BLThompson
Summary: Setting: Pre-apocalypse universe where students at age 18 get to look at a glimpse of their future through a technologically advanced crystal ball, called the Prospect Device. The technology was created to help students focus in on their future career so that they can begin studying relevant subjects and taking correct classes. Only students that are graduating high school in the top 10% of their class are given the chance to take their turn with the Prospect Device. It is forbidden to tell others what they view of their future, the scenes presented to them are random, but fairly important future life events. Most of the older generation may have only glimpsed a small portion of the post-apocalyptic world and assumed it to be a dream or a movie they will watch. With the younger generation, it is becoming more obvious what the future holds.





	1. Chapter 1

Beth’s POV

Beth was nervous. Although no one could talk about what they saw in the Prospect Device, there had been a mood shift among all of her peers for the past few years. People used to come out of the board certified room looking happy and enthusiastic about their future. Recently, students came out sobbing, or even worse, with just a blank look on their face. The whole town had been gossiping, trying to figure out what was going on. There was so many theories: that the US had come under dictator rule, that WWIII had occurred, or that the swine flu had evolved faster than scientists could combat it. 

Now, with her senior year coming to a close, Beth had to decide if she wanted to view her future. A part of her wanted to remain ignorant, to protect herself from the harm so many were seeing, but another part was full of curiosity. What would she be like in 5, 10, 20 years? Would she marry Jimmy, whom she was currently dating, or find someone else? Would she become the singer she had always dreamed of? It seemed unlikely based on everyone’s reactions to their Prospect Device results, but Beth still held on to that small hope. Beth began drumming her fingers on the table, her stomach twisting and turning.

“Ahem,” said Mrs. Morris, Beth’s English teacher.

The blonde stopped and blushed in embarrassment at being reprimanded. Beth’s fingers quieted, but her mind did not. Would she have kids? Would she still be close to Maggie and Shawn? So many questions ran around in her mind. Beth knew even if she chose to be tested, the glimpse was only 5 minutes long and could focus on any part of her life, many of her questions would likely remain unanswered. 

Finally, the bell rang and Beth gathered up her things and headed to the bus stop. It was a long ride, Beth was always last to get off since her home was the furthest from the school, or from town for that matter.

Annette had cooked an extra special dinner to celebrate Beth’s upcoming graduation. After Hershel prayed, the whole family dug into the venison, baked potatoes, green beans, and dinner rolls.

“Well Bethy,” her father asked, “have you made a decision for tomorrow?”

“Um,” mumbled Beth, suddenly not as hungry, “I think I’m going to do it.”

Her family murmured their uncertain praise. No one in the family had ever been tested. When Hershel was in high school, the technology was just coming out. Beth’s mother had been given the option and turned it down. Maggie, while very intelligent, wasn’t a very diligent student, and had ended up three people away from the top 10%. Shawn hadn’t even been close, but that didn’t seem to bother him. 

“Just don’t get too caught up in what you see Beth,” Annette warned, brandishing a fork at her youngest “seeing a glimpse of the future can be very disconcerting. There will be things you see that don’t make sense now, there will be things out of context that you can’t understand until you actually have lived it. Seeing the future has caused many more harm than good, especially recently.”

“I think it is cool,” Shawn encouraged, “I hope you see me as the amazing basketball star I am sure to become!”

“Ha,” laughed Maggie, “she is more likely to see you as a farmhand here if she sees you at all.”

“That is enough,” quieted Hershel, “Beth, this is your decision, don’t let anyone influence you. However, if you change your mind before tomorrow, you can always back out.”

“Yes daddy,” Beth replied, “I understand.”

“Good,” her father said with a smile, “now, everyone it is getting dark, help Annette pick up the table.”

All the kids jumped to the task, carrying dirty dishes to the sink, storing leftover food, and loading the dishwasher. Afterwards, Beth took a shower, staying a bit longer than usual. She kept going over and over in her head the pros and cons of glimpsing her future but what it ultimately came down to was that she was desperately curious. She just had to know.

“You have made a decision,” Beth lectured herself, “now quit making yourself crazy thinking about this and go to bed.”

The young woman got out of the shower, dried off, and finished her normal bedtime routine. She crawled in bed and tried to fall asleep, but it didn’t come. Finally, she gave up and pulled out her favorite book, Pride and Prejudice, and reread it until she was tired.

The next morning, Beth awoke with an energy that was disproportionate to the amount of sleep she had gotten. With great care, she brushed her blonde hair and pulled it back in a ponytail, adding a little braid on one side. Then, she dressed in jeans and her yellow polo shirt before running downstairs. The blonde scarfed down breakfast and was out the door. Unfortunately, just because Beth was ready early, didn’t mean the bus was. She stood at the end of her family’s dirt driveway for almost 30 minutes before the huge yellow vehicle came around the bend. 

Once at school, Beth went to the register’s office and informed the woman that she would indeed be taking the test. She was handed a slip of paper that read: 

Beth Greene  
Rosen High School Senior  
Test Room: 203  
Time: 3:00

Beth wanted to groan, she would have to wait almost all day to take the test! She wanted to get it over with now! There was nothing that could be done about it though, so Beth left the office only to run into her current boyfriend, Jimmy. 

“So you are taking the test,” Jimmy exclaimed, looking at the paper in her hand, “I thought you would have told me if you decided to.”

“Well,” Beth said carefully, “I wasn’t really sure I wanted to until this morning.”

“I can go with you, stand outside the door until you are done,” Jimmy offered, “in case, ya know, just a lot of kids have had a hard time with the Prospect Device lately.”

“No, that is okay, but thank you,” Beth declined, feeling like she wanted to be completely alone, even afterwards, since this was such an intimate experience.

The classes passed slowly, so did lunch. Beth couldn’t talk about her upcoming test with anyone else since none of her friends had qualified. They seemed wary to discuss Beth’s future anyway, they didn’t want to know what was making everyone who did view their future depressed or even suicidal. 

The hours ticked by until it was 2:50. Beth had showed the slip to her math teacher before class, so she just gathered her things and slipped out the door as the lecture continued. Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked down the empty, silent hallway. Although she was surrounded by rooms of people, for the moment it seemed like everyone else had disappeared. Finally, she reached room 203. Unlike the regular classrooms, this one had a hefty, metal door that could be securely locked when testing was not in place. Beth was wondering if she should knock or wait when a strict-looking woman in a suit opened the door. She had long, straight, black hair that was in a high pony-tail and her make-up made her look very severe.

“Beth Greene,” the woman asked.

“Yes,” the blonde replied.

“Please enter,” the woman directed, holding the door wider.

Beth stepped into a dark room that held a single chair with an attached desk, like many school desks. However, this one had a clear ball on it that was filled with wires and lights. In front of the desk, was a large flat-screen TV that was currently black. Beth felt intimidated and for a moment considered walking back out before deciding that she couldn’t run away. She hadn’t come this far just to give up.

“Please,” the administrator said, “have a seat.”

Beth sat down in the familiar school chair and listened as the woman began talking as she was pushing buttons on the glass globe.

“Be aware that the Prospect Device will only last 5 minutes. You will be left alone to view, I will be waiting outside the door. When you are done, you are to walk out and tell no one about what you have just seen,” the woman instructed, “you will begin by placing both hands on the glass ball. The Prospect Device will scan your fingertips to identify you before beginning to uncover glimpses of your future. If you wish to stop, at any time just remove your hands. Any questions?”

“No,” Beth whispered, getting more nervous.

“Then, you may begin,” the administrator said, as she walked out and closed the door.

The blonde stared down at the mechanical crystal ball in front of her, her nerves tingling. Slowly, she lifted her hands up and placed them on the glass. The glass felt warm to the touch and immediately, a red light shot out, scanning each fingertip. A whirling sound came from within the machine and suddenly, light appeared on the TV.

There was just a flash of Beth and Jimmy sitting on the front porch swing at Beth’s house. It looked like it was evening and the wind tossed his short, brown hair back and forth. 

“Things just aren’t the same anymore Beth,” he told her, looking off into the distance, “I don’t think they ever will be again.”

As quickly as his face appeared, it disappeared, only to be replaced by a scene of Beth walking through a forest. She was dirty, covered in what looked like soil, blood, and leaves. Her ribs poked out under her semi-white tank top and her hair was coming loose of her ponytail. In her hand she held a gun and her face was constantly scanning her surroundings as she careful put one foot in front of the other. There was a snap and the future Beth whirled around and raised her gun and pulled the trigger. The screen went blank before Beth could see what future Beth had been shooting at. 

Next, was a vision of Beth’s mother, lying in bed, her arm wrapped in bandages. Her mother was fighting to draw every breath, her forehead shining with sweat. Hershel was right by his wife’s side, promising that he was going to find a cure, that everything was going to be alright. Shawn’s voice broke in on the screen, muttering about how nothing would ever be right again.

That faded out to show an aerial view of what looked like sickly people moaning and stumbling all around. Some of them were fatally wounded, it didn’t make any sense how they were still walking. There was a skull on the ground, whose mouth snapped open and closed. Current Beth’s fingers tightened on the ball she was holding, feeling like surely this couldn’t be right. She was standing on the roof of what she though was her house and was sobbing. Gunshots rang out and people began yelling. An RV drove over towards Beth, who jumped on. She glanced back at their house as the RV took off, running over people. Patricia, their neighbor, was running after them, hand in hand with Maggie, until the older woman was grabbed by someone in the crowd. The stranger bit into Patricia’s neck and Beth heard herself screaming. 

The next scene was much better. Maggie stood in front of Beth, just as dirty as Beth had appeared before, jumping up and down as they both squealed. A diamond ring was on Maggie’s left ring finger. 

“He asked,” exclaimed Maggie, “I wasn’t even expecting it, I mean, that just isn’t what people do anymore, now is it?”

“I’m so happy for you Maggie,” future Beth gushed, “we can’t do a lot, but we are going to have to get the cafeteria to look nice and have some sort of wedding.”

The following scene quieter. There was a baby Beth was cradling in her arms, she cooed at the little girl, who gurgled and tried to grab Beth’s hair. Was that her own baby? Beth’s arms were dirty, her nails broken. The room look dark and uncomfortable, it was full of metal furniture. 

“Little ass-kicker right there,” drawled a gravelly voice from someone not on the screen.

“Haha, Daryl,” Beth laughed, “she is only a few months old, she is a long way from kicking anyone’s ass.”

“But she will someday,” replied the man, “anyone that grows up in this world can’t be any less.”

The scene changed again. 

Beth was racing through a forest, branches and leaves hitting her in the face. She was following a man in front of her with brown straggly hair and angel leaves on his vest. 

“Come on,” he yelled, going faster. It was the same voice as the last scene. 

Beth could tell her future self increased the pace, keeping up with the guy in front of her. Finally, the man in front of her collapsed and so did she. Laying in the grass, the man looked over at her, gasping for breath, his striking blue eyes staring at her, his pupils blown wide due to adrenaline. If Beth thought she had looked dirty before, that was nothing compared to this man. He looked like he hadn’t showered in months, but there was something slightly attractive about him, under all the layers of dirt. The way each of his muscles moved like a finely tuned device. The way his eyes could look concerned but sharp at the same time. 

Each scene kept moving quickly into the following one. It was the same man again, Daryl, but this time he was looking pissed as hell and it was scary. 

“Naw, it’s fun,” he growled at her as he reloaded his crossbow. 

“Just stop it,” she exclaimed desperately, “Daryl!”

“Come here,” he slurred, grabbing her by the arm and spinning her around before placing his arm around her neck. 

He shot at a human pinned up against a tree, which had a couple more bolts already in it but was still somehow moving and making noise.

“Just kill it,” her future-self cried as she freed herself.

“Come here Greene,” the redneck insisted, undeterred, “let’s pull these out. Can get a little more target practice.”

Before the rough man could reach his victim, Beth ran past him and pulled out an knife. In a swift movement that suggested practice, she stabbed the suffering man in the head. 

The next glimpse was much calmer.

Daryl sat next to Beth in a candle-lit kitchen, scraping hogs feet out of a jar while licking his fingers in-between snacks. Coke bottles and peanut butter jars littered the table. The young woman sat writing a letter. 

“Maybe you don’t have to leave that,” he said in a much softer voice that was almost unrecognizable from his previous yelling, “maybe we will stick around here a while. When they come back, we just make it work.” 

“I mean,” said the archer, suddenly a bit less certain, “it may be nuts, but maybe it will be alright.”

A smile grew on Beth’s face.

“So you do think there are still good people around,” she asked innocently.

The older man shrugged and looked back at his food.

“Well,” the blonde pushed, “what changed your mind?”

The rough man stared at her for a moment, before looking down at his food and shifting uncertainly.

“Ya know,” he answered vaguely. 

Apparently her future self had the same tenacity her current self did, because she didn’t let the conversation drop.

“What,” she pressed, grinning a bit.

The older man was obviously having trouble answering. He looked anywhere but at her and finally mumbled something that sounded like I don’t know.

Then, it was gone and another scene began.

“Beth,” cried Maggie, pulling her sister into her arms, “I can’t believe it is really you.”

An older man with short brown hair was there, so was a young boy with a sheriff’s hat and many others that she did not recognize. They all crowded around her, she looked cleaner, but had scars on her face. They were standing outside a hospital, so Beth could only assume they had to take her in to get an injury patched up. After all the reunions, the groups started moving, but Beth fell back to walk with Daryl at the back of the line. 

They walked in silence for a while before he finally said anything.

“I missed you,” he growled out, while scanning the trees.

“Ya, I know,” Beth replied, taking his hand in hers.

He looked over with his piercing blue eyes and his hand tightened on hers.

The screen went blank.

Beth sat, trying to process what she had just seen. She had come in here wanting answers and so far she only had more questions. How had she learned to kill people? How did she get those scars? Who was this Daryl, who obviously had feelings for her, which she returned? What happened to Jimmy? Her house? Her family? Why were people walking around so sick and hurt?

None of this made any sense, none of it was even vaguely close to what she had pictured for herself. Beth sat in the chair so long that the crystal sphere, which had turned warm to the touch while operating, cooled down.

Finally, she got up and walked out the door.

“I hope you enjoyed the experience,” said the administrator with a fake smile.

Beth just nodded, not trusting her voice and walked off. School was almost out, but Beth couldn’t wait. She took off towards home, walking rather than taking the bus. It was a long walk, but Beth needed it. Everything kept replaying in her head. If she thought about it hard enough, maybe it would make sense. The fear and desperation in her eyes when she had been in the woods, her mama sick in bed, and the sick people walking all around, it didn’t appear that there was much to look forward to. However, there had been that man. The one with the long shaggy hair and well-muscled arms. He seemed so rough and yet somehow soft at the same time. There was something about him that made Beth almost excited for this horrific future she would be living. There was also something fascinating about her future self, she seemed stronger, more capable than she had ever believed herself to be. 

The weeks passed and Beth’s studying dropped way down. The blonde couldn’t focus, not that it really made a difference this close to graduation, she would get her diploma either way. Her mom and dad both tried to understand what was going on, but Beth wasn’t allowed to talk about what she had seen in the Prospect Device, so there was no explaining her change in attitude. 

It wasn’t too long after graduation that the news started blowing up. Sick people in one city, then one state, then outbreaks all throughout the US, then nothing because the TV no longer received any channels. Beth was there when her mom passed away, she sat on the porch with Jimmy. She felt so dead inside until the day when a group of strangers came running up toward their house. There was a man Beth recognized from her future with his bleeding son in his arms.

After her daddy fixed him up, he was ready to kick the strangers out. However, Beth cornered her dad and convinced him otherwise. Since there was no point in following the rules anymore, she told her dad that she had seen Rick and his son in her future and that she was sure they were good people. Hershel took this into consideration and told Rick that him and his people could stay on the farm. Soon, all new people were coming in, it was more socialization than Beth had had in weeks. However, not as exciting as when a motorcycle pulled up and a familiar shaggy head appeared. The Prospect Device had failed miserably at capturing what he looked like in real life. In person, he was so much taller, more muscular, and more intimidating than Beth had previously thought him to be. However, she knew her future self wasn’t afraid of him, so she put on her best confident face and smiled at him every time he looked her way. More often than not, he just scowled and turned away. 

Beth didn’t know how to approach the man, when there was no way she could explain this connection she had to him. Her uncertainty kept her away until the day he showed up half dead from being impaled on his own bolt and shot by one of the women in his group. The blonde fluttered around the doorway as her father patched the redneck up. She offered to keep an eye on him while her father attended to other business. She was so worried for this man she barely knew.  
When Daryl first opened his eyes, Beth almost gasped with how blue they were. She guessed she was staring too long, because his eyes narrowed.

“What you lookin at blondie,” he weakly snarled.

“My name is Beth,” she told him, not allowing herself to be pushed around or intimidated. 

“I didn’t ask,” he retorted as he tried to get out of bed and fell back wincing in pain.

The young woman reached over to help him and he roughly shoved her hand away like it was a snake. 

“I didn’t ask for no fucking help,” the crass man cussed. 

Beth almost got exasperated with him and walked off, but then she remembered watching how kindly and calmly he had talked to her at some point at a kitchen table. The way he had looked at her. The way he had led her when they were running away from something. He might seem like a dirty, rough, mean man now, but she knew there had to be more to him. The blonde remembered how her future self had argued with Daryl, how she didn’t back down even when he was mad and yelling, and used that to summon her courage. 

“Well,” she replied, “you had better get used to my help, because we are going to be around each other for a long time.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your compliments! Since y'all enjoyed it so much, I am going to try and continue the story. In this chapter, Beth continues trying to get to know Daryl but the more she does, the future glimpses she saw of him just don't quite match up with the man right in front of her, leaving her to have to decide if he really is a good, trustworthy person or not.

Beth’s POV

Daryl hadn’t said anything to her since she had told him to get used to her. The rest of the time he was in the house, which only lasted about 24 hours before he snuck outside to his tent, he refused to look at her or say a word when she came to check if he needed anything. Instead, he just grunted or pretended to be asleep.

 In the Prospect Device, she had seen that Daryl could joke, could be sweet, had the potential to be a leader. However, that was in blaring contrast to the man that she currently knew. The Daryl she knew right now was more savage than kind, was far more likely to bite off her head for her saying hi than to respond in kind. Maybe the visions she had seen had changed, maybe the sickness had changed the whole course of her future. That wasn’t right though, she had seen sick people in her future, so there must be some truth to what she saw.

              Beth carried Daryl’s lunch out on a tray. Usually, Carol or Andrea took the injured man his food, but today was an exception. Carol was distracted by the sign of her daughter, a doll, that Daryl had found and Andrea was out with Shane scanning the woods. The blonde had offered to take his food out, since after all, despite his gruff exterior, he had worked really hard to find Carol’s daughter. When Beth finally reached the forest green tent that blended in with the surroundings, she didn’t know how to announce herself. She obviously couldn’t knock or ring the doorbell and the tent was closed so she didn’t know if the archer might be sleeping.

              “Watcha want,” came an irritable voice from within.                    

              “Got food,” she responded, trying to sound chipper.

              “Girl,” groaned the hunter, “what the hell is wrong with you to be so fucking happy when the whole damn world is gone to shit.”

              Beth felt her breath get sucked away. The Prospect Device had to be wrong, there was no way that this older, rough, rude, somewhat-attractive redneck could ever look at her with any semblance of kindness.

              “Fine, here is your damn food,” she snarled, plopping the tray down outside his tent, “hope you are happy.”

              As she stalked off, she could hear a slight chuckle that just irritated her even more. If her future consisted largely of Daryl as the Prospect Device suggested, it was going to be a miserable life.

              “Hey Beth,” came Jimmy’s sweet voice, “what got you all pissed off, I know that look in your eye.”

              “Nothin,” Beth snapped, before calming down, “it’s just Daryl, he gets on my nerves, always mean to me when I’m trying to help him.”

              “He is seriously messed up, doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you being nice to him” agreed Jimmy, “I overheard Glenn and Rick talking about how he came back with a necklace of ears around his neck. Doesn’t get much creepier than that. Wish someone would tell him to take a hike already, not like he really lives with the group anyway.”

              “Well,” backtracked Beth, not liking Jimmy’s opinion of Daryl despite her own annoyance at him, “Daryl can’t be all bad, his is looking real hard for the lost girl and he brings back food to his group.”

              “Just saying,” her boyfriend continued, “I won’t be surprised if he snaps one day, everyone will have seen it coming.”

              Beth wanted to argue, but right then her daddy called her inside. He was always worried about Beth being around Jimmy. Hershel liked Jimmy enough, but had liked him much better when he hadn’t lived in the same house as his little girl. In Beth’s opinion, she wasn’t the one Hershel needed to be worrying about. She had seen how Maggie was looking at the Asian boy from the other group, Glenn. Last night at supper they were passing notes. She didn’t say anything, didn’t want to cause any more friction between the groups than there already was. It wasn’t much different than how Maggie used to sneak around with guys before all this, except that now it was harder to do until a group set up camp in their backyard.

              As she walked inside, she could feel her father staring down Jimmy. He had always been protective of Beth, but since the outbreak, his watchful eye had increased exponentially and it was a bit smothering to constantly be watched.

              The younger sister started on the dishes, looking out the window toward the barn. She had tried to tell her father that there was no cure, that it was dangerous to keep the undead in there, but he hadn’t wanted to hear a word she said. Beth understood, several of the people in there were her family after all. She didn’t think she could bring herself to put any of them down so she didn’t expect anyone else to either. However, it made her uncomfortable thinking how little stood between the dead and her.

              Lori came by and asked if she could help dry, so Beth found her a cloth and the two women worked side by side. Beth liked having someone to talk to and she felt like it helped Lori to have something to do other than think about her hurt son. Carl was doing better though, already awake and talking. Lori’s pleasant chatter stopped when Shane walked past the window. Beth didn’t like Shane, the way he acted like he owned the place. He kept arguing with her father about Hershel’s refusal to allow people to carry weapons on his property. Apparently, Daryl’s crossbow didn’t count. That or no one wanted to try and separate the gruff man from his most prized possession. Beth was guessing the latter was more likely.

              Maggie went out the front door carrying a bucket of fruit and jerky. Of course, out of all the people in the other group, the brunette handed the food off to Glenn. Her older sister could deny that anything was happening between them all she liked, but Beth saw. She saw more than people gave her credit for.

              When they finished, she thanked Lori and went out to the chicken coop. Beth gathered the eggs and then picked out 4 adult chickens to feed to the walkers in the barn. At least, that was what she was supposed to do with them. Beth couldn’t bring herself to kill perfectly good chickens to feed to people that were only shadows of their former selves. She may not be able to put the dead down, but she wasn’t going to keep feeding them. Beth couldn’t make her father see the truth and Patricia and Maggie followed his orders. Instead, the blonde took the chickens out to the edge of the forest and let each one go.

              “Run along,” she told them, “don’t come back here. There are lots of bugs in the forest, just avoid the people.

              She made her way back to the house to find everyone happy as Carl took his first steps out of bed since the accident. Carl seemed like a sweet kid. The day was made better when she found out from Lori that Rick and his group were giving gun training lessons. Beth knew her father couldn’t know about this yet, so she jumped at the chance to go. Patricia was also interested and followed her along.

              They found Rick, Shane, Glenn, and Jimmy standing around an old rusted car.

              Patricia couldn’t seem to muster up the courage to ask, so Beth jumped in.

              “I hear you are giving lessons on how to shoot,” she asked him.

              “You know your father’s rules,” Rick said, “can’t have any of y’all shooting weapons.”

              “It’s okay,” Beth quickly said, “he consented. I mean, after all, Otis is the only one who really knew how to shoot. Daddy might not want us carrying guns on our person, but he said we could at least learn.”

              Jimmy and Patricia were staring at her, they knew what a blatant lie she had just said. However, neither one ratted her out. Rick looked Beth up and down, as if trying to get a read on her.

              “Okay,” Rick said after a pause, “this evening, meet us out at the edge of the field, we will practice.”

              Beth almost jumped with joy. For once she was going to be able to learn how to defend herself. She knew she needed to know how to shoot, one of the future glimpses she had was of her with a gun and someone or something coming after her. The blonde hadn’t seen the end of that vision, but she was determined to be ready when the time came.

              The afternoon went by in a blur. Beth raced all around the house, organizing and cleaning, anything to make the time go by. When it was finally evening, she slipped out the back door and made her way towards the field. Jimmy caught up with her and matched her stride.

              “Daddy is gonna be mad if he catches his princess lying,” Jimmy told her.

              “Well, Daddy isn’t going to find out,” Beth assured him, “besides, we need to learn.”

              “Hey, I’m not arguing with that, I have wanted to shoot since this whole thing started,” Jimmy said in surrender.

              Beth glanced back towards the house to make sure her dad hadn’t seen them. Someone was watching, just not the person she had expected. Dark, blue eyes stared at her from where Daryl was leaned up against a tree. He was looking much better, but then again, he wasn’t the type to let an injury keep him from moving around. His crossbow was across his back, it must be pressing into his newly healed skin, but his face showed no pain. His eyes followed her every movement, taking in her and Jimmy’s direction like the skilled tracker he was.

              Suddenly, Beth tripped over a branch.

              “Ow,” she exclaimed, mad at herself for not watching where she was going.

              “Hey, you okay,” Jimmy asked, leaning over to help her.

              “Yeah, just a silly mistake,” she laughed, trying to brush it off.

              As she stood up, her boyfriend tried to pull her in for a kiss, but Beth’s neck prickled, knowing Daryl was watching them. For reasons she didn’t even completely understand, Beth neatly step-sided Jimmy and started walking again.

              “Come on, don’t want to be late,” she called to him, pretending to be in a hurry.

              “Ah,” the young man said sounded confused, “um, okay, coming.”

              “Okay, first rule,” began Rick, “don’t point your gun at anything you don’t plan to shoot, ever. When you are carrying it, cleaning it, handing it to someone, always watch where it is pointed. Rule number two, keep your finger straight until you decide to shoot, then close your finger around the trigger. Rule number three, always treat a gun as if it is loaded, even if you just unloaded it. Lastly, don’t just know your target, know what is behind your target because that is what you may hit.”

              Everyone nodded. Shane went around passing out guns. Beth took hers and enjoyed the feel of the heavy metal in her hand. She felt safer already. The blonde was shown how to put bullets in the clip and load it into her gun. Rick talked her through the important parts like how to hold the gun and what stance to take. He seemed surprised when she wasn’t half bad. Living in the country, on a farm, Beth had shot a rifle or two. She was far from an expert, but she wasn’t clueless either.

              Jimmy kept trying to show off for her. He would hold his gun to the side and it looked pretty stupid. Finally, T-dog got after him for trying to impersonate movie gangsters and made her boyfriend shoot correctly. Just for a second, it flashed in Beth’s mind that Daryl was probably just as good of a shot with a gun as he was with his crossbow. Quickly, she tried to remove the distraction. She was finally learning to shoot and had to focus. It took a while, but by the end, Beth was hitting her can target every other time. Andrea was a natural, Beth wished she had that kind of talent.

              Walking back to the house, Beth felt more alive than she had in a long time. She had a little extra pep in her step. That was, until she got to the house and didn’t even make it up the porch before her daddy came out looking angry.

              “Bethy,” he said in the low voice of disapproval she hated, “what is going on out there?”

              “Nothin, daddy,” Beth promised, “I was just watching some of Rick’s group practice shooting. It was really nothing.”

              “You don’t need to be with them alone,” Hershel told her, “don’t get attached to them, I may have let them stay but they won’t be here much longer.”

              “Daddy,” Beth began, “they really aren’t that bad, if you would just get to know them….”

              “To your room,” Hershel ordered, “I have had enough of both you and your sister today!”

              “What has Maggie done,” Beth wondered as she tromped into the house, her previous good mood all but gone.

              She found the brunette upstairs fuming. It didn’t take long for the story to come out. Surprise, surprise, Maggie had been seeing Glenn behind their father’s back, but not only that, but now Glenn knew about their sick family in the barn and had already told one of the men from Rick’s group. Beth felt her stomach plunge. Her daddy already wanted to kick Rick’s group off, if they started trying to get rid of what Hershel considered their sick family, that would be the end of any peace.

              Not for the first time, Beth cursed the Prospect Device for not giving her more useful glimpses of the future. Why couldn’t it have shown her about this upcoming disaster and how to avoid it? She slipped back down stairs and put her boots on. Carefully, she opened the screen door and went outside. It was getting dark, maybe she could open the barn and lure the undead out into the forest and then run back before anyone noticed. It wasn’t a great plan, but that was all she could think of. The blonde went around the house and started tiptoeing out to the barn when an unexpected noise caused her to jump out of her skin.

              “Hey,” shouted a loud obnoxious voice, “girl, where in the hell you think you’re going?”

              Beth whipped around so fast she almost fell over as she tried to signal at Daryl to be quiet. He tromped through the grass and came right up to her, looking at her suspiciously. He was so much more intimidating up close.

              “Aren’t you on house arrest or somethin,” he said, somewhat quieter, but still much louder than Beth would have liked.

              Daryl had obvious been listening earlier to Hershel reprimanding his youngest daughter. Nothing slipped past him.

              “Just, forgot the food scrap bucket out by the chicken coop,” she lied smoothly, trying to act natural, “what are you doing out here?”

              “Had to take a piss,” the older man spat, causing Beth to jump at his language, “sides, got tired of being cooped up in bed. Can do that once one of those fuckers finally gets me.”

              “Um,” Beth cleared her throat, trying to think of anything to respond to what Daryl had just told her, “I don’t think you have to worry about that anytime soon.”

              “You think too much girl,” Daryl grunted.

              “Name’s not girl, it’s Beth,” she clarified.

              “Same,” he shrugged.

              “Alright, goodnight Daryl,” Beth said, dropping the comments that wanted to sting him for calling her girl in hopes that he would just leave her alone.

              She turned around and headed towards the barn, hoping he would just walk away. Unfortunately, that wasn’t in Daryl’s nature.

              “What, just gonna head off into the dark at night without a weapon,” he asked, “you people are crazy, it’s a wonder y’all are even still alive.”

              “What are you following me for,” Beth bit back, trying to get him to leave her alone.

              “Already looking for one child, don’t need another lost girl to find,” he barked.

              Something about the way Daryl called her a child just hurt more than it should. She knew the archer was a lot older than her, but something from the Prospect Device had led her to believe that they could see each other as equals. She should have listened to her mother, you couldn’t trust what you saw in your future, it was only a glimpse and could easily mislead the viewer, as it obviously had with her. The blonde just hadn’t expected her relationship with Daryl, or absolute lack of one, to bother her this much.

              “Well don’t worry,” she shouted, “you don’t have to look for me because I wouldn’t want to be found by a jack-ass like you!”

              “What you say to me,” snarled the hunter, getting right up in her face.

              Beth suddenly felt light-headed, realizing how close he was to her face. How close his lips were to her lips. How his breathe touched her cheek. His eyes looked even bluer up close. She had expected him to smell bad, but her nose detected the smell of pine trees, sunlight, and rainfall. The archer suddenly pulled back, as if he too realized he had gotten too close. However, he still didn’t do what Beth really wanted, which was to leave.

              The blonde made her way to the chicken coop and pretended to mess around looking for something she knew wasn’t even there. After what she considered an adequate amount of time, she came back out to find Daryl there with his arms crossed over his chest and his blue eyes following her closely. Beth tried not to let her gaze get distracted by the sharp contours of his well-muscled arms.

              “Guess it isn’t here,” she lied with a giggle, trying to show how silly she was, “must have misplaced it somewhere else.”

              “Like hell you did,” Daryl’s sharp voice cut through the quiet night air like a knife, “what are you hiding girl.”

              “Um, uh,” the young woman began, thrown off by the archer’s keen insight, “nothing. People occasionally get careless and forget where they left things.”

              “You didn’t seem to be headin toward the coop when I first saw ya,” the hunter observed, watching her every movement to see if she gave something away.

              He was going to figure it out. Daryl was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for. Maybe she should take a leap of faith. The prospect device had shown Beth that Daryl was someone who was trustworthy, who would be there for her in the future, maybe he could help her now.

              “Daryl,” Beth began carefully, “there is something I need your help with.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth decides to take a leap and trust Daryl. WARNING: ATTEMPTED SUICIDE CONTENT, DON'T READ IF THIS WILL BE A PROBLEM FOR YOU!

                                                                                                           Beth's POV

   “Daryl, there is something I need your help with,” Beth had said.

   The blonde had taken the leap, she had decided to tell Daryl, hoping he would help. Now though, she couldn’t seem to get any more words to come out of her mouth. She knew what needed to be done, but she wasn’t ready to let go of her family, even if they were technically already gone.

   “Spit it out girl,” griped her burly companion, not enjoying being kept waiting.

   “The barn,” she told him so softly she almost didn’t know if he heard.

   “What about the fucking barn,” he pushed, his eyes narrowing.

   “The dead people, the ones that got bit, my daddy, Jimmy, and Otis put them in there when they wandered onto the property,” she managed.

    Immediately, her breathe went out of her body and she felt so relieved that she had finally told someone. Not only that she told someone, but that someone was Daryl, who was more than capable of fixing the situation.

   “Ya got walkers in the barn,” Daryl asked in a disbelieving tone, his mesmerizing blue eyes going icy.

   The blonde nodded, trying not to back off from his harsh glare.

   “What the hell,” he spat, “I mean I know people collect all sorts of strange shit, but walkers? Really? What the fuck were y’all thinkin? Know how dangerous they are?”

   “They aren’t just walkers, some of them are family,” Beth yelled at him, regretting her choice to trust him almost immediately.

   “Oh,” he grunted, suddenly seeming to understand her situation better.

   “Daddy, he thinks they are sick,” the younger woman broke down, the words all spilling out, “he has been capturing any friends and family that changed and been sticking them in the barn. He thinks a cure will come and that they will be all better again.”

   “Ain’t no fucking cure except an arrow in the head,” the older man cussed, causing Beth to wince at his graphic description.

   “I know,” she told him somberly, “that’s why I’m asking you to help.”

   There was silence. The only sound that could be heard was the grass rustling in the wind and the crickets chirping.

   “How many,” came Daryl’s raspy voice.

   “I’m not positive,” Beth tried to remember, “I don’t go with them to put the bodies in there. There is ten at least, if not more.”

   Without another word, Daryl turned on his heel and began striding off towards the barn. Some invisible rope seemed to pull Beth along. When they got to the door of the barn, Daryl peered in through a hole in the woods and was met with gnashing of teeth and morbid moans.

   "Yep, ten sounds about right,” he agreed, “good thing I got couple more arrows than that.”

   “On the other side,” Beth instructed, “there is a ladder, so you can climb up to the loft. You can see them easily from there without being in danger.”

   Without a word, Daryl went over to the ladder and began climbing. Beth felt like it was right to follow him. They were her family, or had been, and she needed to be there for them. When she got to the top, Daryl was already standing at the edge, overlooking the scene in the barn. He held a small flashlight in his hand and was shining it on the scene below.

   “Shit,” he groaned, “how many of them did y’all drag in here? Barely gonna have enough arrows for all these fuckers.”

   Beth’s teeth ground at how he referred to her dead family, but she didn’t say anything since she needed his help. Instead, the young woman made her way over to where he was standing. This was the first time she had seen her family again since her daddy, Jimmy, and Otis had wrestled them into the barn. A lot had changed, their skin was greyer, their wounds gaped open wider, and their eyes seemed colder. They were more monster than her family at this point.

   What was formerly Annette stumbled over towards them, raising her arms up as if she wanted to hold her youngest daughter in her arms. The blonde fought back tears seeing the state her mother was in. Shawn stumbled out, wearing his favorite overalls, which were now covered in dirt and blood. Every face was familiar, yet so vastly changed. She felt the breathe in her lungs catch and had to grab ahold of one of the wooden columns to keep from falling into the pit in front of her.

   “Hey,” came Daryl’s voice, a little less gruff than usual, “maybe you should stand back. Don’t gotta watch this.”

   “I need to be there for them,” the blonde sobbed, “they are my family, I can’t let them be alone when….”

   She dissolved into tears. It was so frustrating, she had told herself she could do it, she could be brave. However, reality was so much harsher than what she pictured in her mind. Daryl shifted, obvious uncomfortable with her display of emotion. When he spoke, she was surprise.

   “Least they are worth missin,” he told her, “if it was my father, I would be happy to put a bolt in his head, would serve the bastard right. Kinda wish he had lived long enough to be around when the world turned so he could have become one of these pieces of shit. He was always stumblin around drunk and groaning about crap, would’ve fit in fine with these monsters.”

   The blonde blinked back tears and looked up at the hunter. If she wasn’t hallucinating, she thought Daryl had just tried to cheer her up. Albeit, in a very morbid and horrific way, but he had open up and tried to make her feel better. She managed to give Daryl just the slightest smile, which he immediately turned away from like it would infect him. He pulled his crossbow off his back and began loading it.

   “If you are gonna say goodbye or some other sappy shit, better get it over with now,” he grunted.

   The young woman took his advice and walked over to look down at her family again.

   “Thank you for being a great mom,” she told the female creature that wasn’t really Annette, “thanks for listening to me, teaching me how to cook, always being there for me and Maggie and Shawn.”

   Then, Beth looked over at the walker that had been Shawn.

   “Shawn,” she told him, “I know so many times I yelled at you that I hated you, that I would complain about you always teasing me, but I loved you so much. I remember the time when you first took me out to see Nervous Nelly, gave me sugar cubes to feed her. I just…..”

   Beth’s voice choked up and she couldn’t seem to go on.

   “Better head on down,” Daryl told her and she obeyed.

   As Beth was going down the first rungs, she heard the twang of one of Daryl’s arrows and the thud of a body falling to the ground. The whole way down, she heard the sound over and over again. Until she reached the bottom. Her feet felt shaky and her stomach churned. She leaned over and began dry heaving in the grass. Finally, Daryl climbed down and walked straight past her. His face was drained of all blood and he was staring off into the distance.

   “Daryl,” Beth called after him.

   He didn’t turn around so she began chasing him.

   “Is everything okay,” she tried again, “Daryl!”

   He suddenly spun around, his gaze going murderous. The veins in his neck bulged and the muscles on his arms that had looked so attractive before suddenly looked much more dangerous.

   “What the fuck is wrong with you people,” he yelled at her, “you think it was a fucking game, letting us go out there and risk our lives looking for a little girl you had all along!”

   “Daryl,” Beth gasped, “I don’t know what you are talking about? There was only our family and friends in the barn, Daddy and Otis have been catching them because they knew them.”

   “Oh yeah,” he snarled, “callin me a liar? You and your whole family are full of it! After I took care of all of them like your fucking errand boy, another one crawled out of a corner, but it sure as hell wasn’t one of yours!  And to think I’ve been risking my fucking redneck-ass crawling all over the country-side when Sophia was right here!”

   Beth couldn’t take it anymore, she leaned over and this time it wasn’t just dry heaving. When she stood up again, he was gone, striding off towards the camp set up for Rick’s group. Beth stood there waiting, until she finally heard it. Carol’s voice cut through the night air, screaming and crying. Lights turned on, people came running. They all ran past her, towards the bar. Then, the lights to her house turned on and her family came out as well.

   “What’s going on,” she could hear Jimmy asking her, but she couldn’t respond.

   He shook her lightly, but it all felt so far away. The next thing she knew, Maggie was yelling at her.

   “How could you do this,” she screamed, “how could you let that redneck manic near our family? What have you done!?”

   Her daddy was sobbing. Jimmy finally left her to see what was happening and when he saw his parents lying on the ground, not moving, he broke down too.

   It was all her fault, it had to be done, but it had all gone so wrong. Beth had just wanted to make sure they were safe, that no one else got hurt, but that didn’t make her feel any better. Half of her family was dead and the other half hated her. Rick’s group was mad at her family for hiding the little girl in their barn. Carol was sobbing, Shane was yelling, Jimmy was running after Daryl screaming.

   Beth turned on her heel and just ran. The grass flew by her as she sprinted as fast as she could. When she reached the porch to her house, she didn’t stop. The blonde flew upstairs, past Maggie’s bedroom and into her own. Quickly, she crossed the room to the bathroom and looked in the cracked mirror at her reflection. The light from the full moon came in through the window, illuminating her pale face. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, her face was red and puffy, and her blonde hair disheveled and falling out of her ponytail.

   Carefully, Beth raised her hand to the cracked glass and ran her fingers along the ridge. Her mother had cracked it. The day Annette had passed away, they didn’t yet understand how the disease worked. They hadn’t known she would get up and begin moving again. She had stumbled into Beth’s room and Shawn had come in and stopped her from attacking her own daughter. In the process, the mirror had gotten cracked and her older brother had been bit. Remembering, Beth slammed her fist up against the mirror, causing a giant piece of it to fall into the sink. It made a tinkling sound that was so beautiful, but also so sharp and cold. She didn’t feel it, but it must have sliced one of her fingers, because it was bleeding. She couldn’t feel it though, couldn’t feel anything.

   All Beth could see or hear was all the people yelling at her, accusing her, it was Maggie and Daryl and she knew Jimmy, Patricia, and her dad felt the same way. They all hated her. It had to be done, but maybe she deserved them yelling at her for what she did. At that thought, Beth’s hand closed around the shard in the sink and pulled it out, turning it so it caught the light and glinted. A random thought popped into her head.

   “If I do this, if I kill myself,” she thought, “it would change the whole future. Everything I saw wouldn’t happen. It would all be gone. I wouldn’t have to see Patricia die, I won’t have to run away from whatever will be chasing me in the future. I wouldn’t have to live with all the pain and fear and death. Unlike all the others, I know this isn’t going to be over soon, I saw how much rugged and older all of us looked in the future. There isn’t no government coming to save us, there isn’t a magical cure. All the things that give them hope to keep going, I already know they are lies.”

   With that last thought, the blonde drew the blade across her wrist, watching as blood sprang instantly from the wound. Just as she was about to finish cutting all the way across her wrist, she suddenly felt the pain again. It sprang instantly into her mind as if out of nowhere. Then, flashes went through her mind. She saw Maggie jumping up and down with her engagement ring, she saw a gurgling baby in her arms, and she saw Daryl staring at her across a table.

   “What changed your mind,” that is what she had asked him, but now the question was turned to her.

   She could still finish what she had started. Beth could take away all the pain and never feel it again.

   "No,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

   Her future may not be what she wanted it to be, it may not be full of sweet family memories and going to the movies with friends and all the other stuff she had expected. However, there were still good things even in the midst of all the horror that was now her reality and Beth was damned if she wasn’t going to stick around long enough to see those moments. She wanted to be by Maggie’s side when her sister got married. She wanted to hold that unknown baby in her arms. And despite how much of an ass he currently was, she wanted to be there to find out what changed Daryl’s mind.

   The blonde grabbed a towel and pressed it to her wrist, but the white cloth quickly turned red. She made her way out of her room and yelled as loud as she could, but everyone was outside at the barn.

   “Maggie,” she tried, her voice getting a little weaker, “Daddy, help!”

   Beth stumbled through her room, blood dripping on the floor. She managed to make it in the hall and was stumbling down the steps when Lori came into the house.

   “Help,” she whispered, before everything went black.

   When Beth opened her eyes again, she was in her bed and Maggie was sitting right next to her. the light coming through the window told her it was mid-day.

   “Bethy,” Maggie asked, immediately rising out of the chair, “Bethy, how are you feeling?”

   “Hmmm,” she groaned, “I….I think I’m okay now.”

   “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” scolded Maggie, who clasped her uninjured hand, “I’ve lost so many people, I can’t lose you too.”

   “I’m sorry Maggie,” Beth began, “about the barn….I didn’t want to, but it had to be done….”

   “I know,” the brunette said, surprising her, “I know. I have wanted to believe Daddy so bad for so long, mostly because I didn’t want to accept the truth. When Glenn and I went on a run the other day, one of those things almost killed me. Would have if Glenn wasn’t there….I don’t want any of those things to get you or daddy or anyone else. I just wasn’t ready to let them go though.”

   “I know how you feel,” Beth said, squeezing her sister’s hand.

   “And I am sure as hell not ready to let you go,” Maggie continued, giving her a look that said she wasn’t off the hook just yet.

   “I’m not going anywhere,” Beth promised, “not anymore. And don’t let daddy hear you cussing like that. You know how he feels about cussing.”

   At her words, Maggie tired eyes tightened, a dead give-away that something was wrong. Beth had known her sister long enough to know when she wasn’t saying something.

   “Where is daddy,” Beth asked, her voice becoming so small as she looked around, half-hoping for him to walk through the door.

   Her heart clenched, what had she missed while she had been out?

   “After he fixed you up,” Maggie said hesitantly, “he just left, he hasn’t come back since. Tomorrow morning, if he still isn’t back, Rick and Glenn are going to go looking for him.”

   “We need to find him now,” Beth began, sitting up, only to have her sister push her back down.

   “You are in no shape to go find anyone,” Maggie told her and Beth’s dizzy head agreed.

   “Neither is anyone else,” the brunette said in a way that left no room for discussion, “Everyone is in a lot of pain right now and there is a lot of work to be done after last night, the soonest anyone will be ready to look for him is tomorrow. We have holes to dig, and....bodies to bury. Besides, he may still come back on his own.”

   The rest of the day, Beth lay in bed worrying. It wasn’t like her daddy to just wander off and the world was so dangerous now, anything could have happened to him. However, like Maggie said, there wasn’t much that could be done until tomorrow.

   Jimmy came and visited her, but neither really talked. Her boyfriend still seemed to be in shock. He had a black eye and large bruise on his arm, most likely resulting from his confrontation with Daryl. Later that day, Andrea came to visit her. She told Beth that she was proud of her for choosing to stick around and gave her some advice that she had learned.

   “The pain doesn’t go away,” she had told the younger woman, “you just make room for it.”

   Despite lying in bed all day, Beth was exhausted. As she was drifting off to sleep, she heard a set of male voices outside her window. There was no more air conditioning, so she kept her window open, hoping to get a slight breeze. However, it also made it easy to hear anyone right outside the house.

   “What you did, looking for Sophia,” came Rick’s voice, “it was the right thing to do.”

   “Didn’t do any fuckin good,” disagreed a gravelly voice that could only belong to Daryl.

   “Sometimes, the only thing we can control is ourselves,” the sheriff told the redneck, “can’t always make things turn out right or go the way we want it to go. Just got to do the best we can.”

   There was a pause of silence before Rick continued.

   “The youngest daughter,” Rick told him, “Lori says she is gonna be alright.”

   “Don’t give a shit,” grunted Daryl.

   “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked when you heard what she did,” Rick called him on his bullshit, “ain’t your fault she did that, ain’t nobody’s fault. She is gonna make it, you don’t have to feel guilty.”

   “Quit makin this somethin it’s not, I ain’t blaming myself for other people’s stupidity” bit the gruff man, “I don’t give a shit what some little blonde bitch does, she is prolly just another dead girl anyway. If not now, then something will happen to her sooner or later.”

   It stung Beth to hear Daryl’s words, but she had also learned by now that sometimes his mean words were just his way of keeping people from getting too close. He might run around yelling and cussing at people, but when it came down to it, he was there for them. He had proved that tonight helping her with her undead family, had proved it looking for Sophia, had proved multiple times that his actions showed him to be better than his words or his background. Underneath the dirt and grime and cussing, there was a strong, reliable, hard-working man whom she now trusted and respected.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to get this out in celebration of TWD starting up again tomorrow! Tried it out a little bit from Daryl’s POV, would like to do his more often since he doesn’t talk enough to know what he is always thinking, even though it will still mostly be from Beth’s prospective. I promise I will at some point deviate more from the TV series, but for the next few chapters, it will follow at least somewhat closely. WARNING: SLIGHT VIOLENCE AND REFERENCE TO NON-CONSENT, DO NOT READ IF IT WILL TRIGGER ANYTHING.

**Daryl’s POV**

  This wasn’t about helping the group, protecting them. At least, that is what he told himself as he stepped into the shed, his crossbow pointed down at the young boy sitting on the ground with his hands tied behind his back. He didn’t care about any of them, he told himself, even though he knew he had volunteered to do this for a reason.

  “I can get him to talk,” had just popped out of Daryl’s mouth as he saw how hard Rick was trying to figure out what to do with the kid he had drug back.

  Glenn and Rick had been out to get Hershel when they were ambushed. Men all got away but left this young boy, who had accidentally impaled himself on a fence, for dead. Rick, being the sheriff that he was, saved the kid and brought him back for Hershel to patch up. Since then, the group had been left with a dilemma. The boy was running with cutthroats, if they let him go and he went back to them, he could tell them about the Greene farm. Daryl knew how dangerous it was to have something that other people wanted.

  The group had been going over it for couple days now, what to do with Randall. Rick had tried to get the boy to talk, but it just wasn’t his way to do what needed to be done now. Daryl had known just by looking at him that the sheriff couldn’t do it, so he had volunteered. He tried to tell himself he just needed to blow off some steam, felt like punching somebody, not because he actually cared about this group he had happened to fall in with. He also tried to reason that it was in his best interest to find out about the kid’s group, could be a danger to him. That wasn’t what had him speaking up though. It was how miserable Rick had looked, how anxious Carol had been, how much he didn’t want anything more to happen to the Greene family.

  “Please don’t,” Randall began as soon as he closed the door to the shed behind him.  

  “Then talk,” he ordered, hefting his crossbow a bit to get the message across.

  “I don’t know them, just met them out on the road,” Randall promised.

  “Yeah, and we are gonna feed you fucking ice cream tomorrow,” he snorted, “least come up with something believable.”

  “I promised,” the boy insisted, “I barely knew those guys!”

  Daryl had lied enough in his lifetime to recognize a lie when he heard one. The redneck leaned down, got his face real close to the kid and in a swift movement, slammed his hand into the boy’s chest, easily pinning him against the wall. Randall gasped and squirmed in terror.

  “How do you know them,” the archer hissed, his eyes narrowing into slits.

  When the boy didn’t respond, he brought his fist up and landed it on the side of the kid’s head, causing his head to fall to the floor.

  “I promise,” he sobbed, pushing himself back up “that’s all I know.”

  “You ain’t fucking telling me nothin,” he growled, slamming his fist down again.

  Daryl knew how much it hurt to get hit in the nose, Randall wasn’t taking it too well. His eyes welled up and he could barely sit upright. He stood up and in a calculated way, kicked the kid in the gut, right where he knew it would hurt the worst. Randall doubled over, clutching his stomach.

  “How many in your group,” Daryl demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Randall resisted.

  The redneck had enough of this bullshit. The kid was hiding something, which meant that his group was up to no good. He needed more information if he was gonna plan how to stop them. Deftly, he unbuckled his buck knife and held it at his side, allowing the kid to get a good look at it.

  “Noooo, no no,” Randall began, “not that!”

  Unfortunately for the young man, Daryl knew how to be even more intimidating. With a lunge, he swung the knife up and planted it right between the kid’s legs.

  “How many,” he shouted in the kids face.

  “Thirty,” yelled Randall, “about thirty guys!”

  That was a start, but not nearly enough. Now that it had started to come out, Daryl knew he had Randall right where he wanted him.

  “Where,” he shot back.

  When Randall hesitated, he looked for a weak spot. It turned out to be the pristine white bandage Hershel had placed on the kid’s leg. He yanked that sucker off, causing Randall to scream in pain and surprise.

  “I don’t know,” sobbed the kid, “I swear!”

  That wasn’t going to work. Daryl took his buck knife and ran it lightly up the kid’s leg to his wound and began just barely scraping at it.

  “We were never anyplace more than a night,” spilled Randall.

  That didn’t sound good, only one reason people did that if they weren’t out of supplies.

  “Scouting,” he questioned, “planning on staying local?”

  To reinforce the urgency of answering him, he pushed his knife a tad bit deeper.

  “I don’t know,” stammered the kid, “they…. They left me.. I don’t know!”

  The redneck wanted to roll his eyes, as if the kid had been with these people since this shitstorm began and had no clue of their plans. He rolled his knife under the kid’s scab on his leg.

  “Did you ever pick off a scab before,” he asked.

  “Don’t man,” pleaded Randall, “I’m trying to tell you what I know! I’m cooperating!”

  “Going awfully slow to be cooperatin,” he snarled, running the edge up and down the kid’s leg, drawing little lines of blood, “sooner or later I’m just gonna have to rip this off.”

  “Kay,” yelled Randall, “Okay!”

  Daryl finally decided the kid looked scared enough to tell him the truth. He didn’t ease off the pressure on his knife but he quit moving it.

  “They got weapons,” began Randall, “real heavy stuff, automatics. But, but I didn’t do anything!”

  That really got Daryl seeing red. As if anyone was innocent these days. He pushed down drawing more blood.

  “You shot at my boys,” he informed the kid, surprising himself with his own words, claiming these strangers as his own, “tried to take this farm. And you just went along for the ride? You trying to tell me your innocent?”

  “Yes,” yelled Randall, but not persuasive enough.

  Daryl was beyond angry. It was one thing to lose people to mindless-walkers, it was a whole other to almost lose them to people who hurt them on purpose.

  “These people took me in,” blabbered the young man, “Not just guys, a whole group of them! Men, women, and kids, just like here! Thought I would do good being with them!”

  Daryl knew when something sounded too good to be true, it probably wasn’t. This kid wasn’t running around with people just like his group and then suddenly happened to attack people they ran across. He stood up, glaring at the kid, but allowing distance between them to make him feel safe enough to talk. And Randall did talk, it all came spilling out.

  “But, we would go out and scavenge, just the men,” he told Daryl, “one night, we found this little campsite with a man and his two daughters…teenagers, ya know? Real young, real cute.”

  That instantly sent Daryl’s thoughts to the only one in their group who fit that description, Beth. He knew he needed to stay away so Randall would keep talking, but felt his feet getting closer and his fists clenching.

  “Their daddy had to watch while….these guys,” Randall told him,” and they didn’t even kill him afterwards! They just made him watch!....as his daughters….they just left him there.”

  Daryl had been through a lot of shit in his life, but this was something even he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to think about. His mind skipped to how Beth brought food out to him when he was hurt, how she always smiled at him even when he scowled at her, how she came to check up on him when he wasn’t doing well. As much as her naïve, light-hearted ways pissed him off sometimes, the thought of someone hurting her had him all worked up. Randall must of seen the look in his eyes because he started talking again.

  “NO,” he told Daryl, “but I, I didn’t touch those girls! No! I swear I didn’t..”

  Randall was cut off by Daryl punching him to the ground. The archer hadn’t even realized what he was doing in time to hold back. He uncurled his palms, groaning as his knuckles ached in protest.

  “You gotta believe me,” gasped Randall from the ground.

  In that moment, all Daryl saw was someone who was an immense threat to the people he wanted to protect. He raised his foot up and kicked the kid right in his wounded leg.

  “Ahhhh,” screamed the boy, “I ain’t like that….believe me…”

  The next kick was on his head and knocked the kid unconscious. Just as Daryl was about to leave, he noticed that a piece of paper was on the ground near the boy. It must have fallen out when he had roughed Randall up. The gruff man bent over and snatched the paper up off the floor. It read:

PDT

  * Ivy Lowe
  * Bryce Neutze
  * Nathan Thompson
  * Beth Greene
  * Jacob Gun
  * Chase Carter



  When he read the fourth name, his fingers clenched the paper so tightly it hurt. He reached over and hit Randall across the back of the head, but the boy was out. He would have to wait to question the kid about it another time.

**Beth’s POV**

              Beth stood in front of the 13 piles of dirt that held everyone from the barn and now Dale as well. Her daddy had held a small sermon that morning for everyone they lost. However, this afternoon, Beth had seen some wild Indian paintbrush flowers and it had just felt right. She had picked them and gone to set one in front of each grave, noting that Sophia’s had a white flower already on it. If she had learned one thing from her suicide attempt, it was that if she wanted to live in this world, she couldn’t let all the bad weigh her down. She had to look for the good, the beautiful things, take the time to appreciate what was right in front of her.

              The blonde turned to leave, only to find herself startled by the figure behind her. It was Daryl, he seemed to have this ability to move without ever making a sound. His blue eyes had been on her, but dropped down as soon as she met his. His knuckles were split and covered in blood, she had heard about what had happened with Randall. Then, last night, she had heard second-hand how Daryl had to put Dale out of his misery. He had been missing in action since then, which wasn’t surprising after all he had been through. The archer seemed a bit more tired and worn down since the last time she had seen him and it made her sad.

              “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I really didn’t know that little girl was in there.”

              “I know,” his hoarse voice ground out.

              Beth felt a little lighter, knowing that he was mad at her had been bothering her more than it should have.

              “And thank you,” she told him, “for the barn and for digging the graves, I know it was mostly you even though the others helped.”

              “Ain’t nothin,” he shrugged, looking uncomfortable and ready to disappear any moment.

              “It was a lot,” she told him, wanting him to know how much she appreciated it.

              When he only grunted, she figured the conversation was over and started to walk past him to the house.

              “Wait,” came his voice as the very edge of his rough fingertips brushed her arm.

              The moment she stopped and angled her body towards his, he withdrew. It was sad, but he reminded her of Nervous Nelly. The horse wasn’t nervous naturally, her daddy had gotten the mare after she had been brutally beaten by her former owner. The police had called Hershel to come fix the mare after they arrested the man.

Afterwards, Hershel was going to find someone to take it in, but that was before his youngest took a liking to Nelly. He had been intending to get her a horse like he had Maggie and Shawn, one a bit older and calmer, but the young blonde had been insistent that she wanted Nelly. Beth could remember how the horse had shied away from her touch at first, became nervous if she came too close or looked at her directly. The horse’s mannerisms were similar to Daryl’s, which is maybe why the horse had let him ride her, when usually no one other than Beth could.

              The blonde’s thoughts were interrupted by the hunter digging in his pocket and holding something silver out towards her.

              “Here,” he grunted, “ain’t much, but figured ya might want it.”

              Beth put out her hand to have her mother’s favorite silver necklace with two hearts, one big and one small, dropped into her hand. Hershel had given it to Annette when they found out they were going to have Beth. Her mother had worn it all the time, including the day she died. She had always told Beth that when she was ready to be a mother, she would hand it off to her. The blonde’s hand closed around the hearts, feeling how warm they were from being held by Daryl.

              “Thank you Daryl,” she told him as earnestly as she could.

              He just grunted, but didn’t leave like she was expecting.

              “Beth, I need ya ta look at this an tell me what it means to you,” He said carefully, his sharp eyes suddenly hyper-focused on her.

              The blonde took the wrinkled, dirty piece of paper he pulled out of his front shirt pocket. It was written in pen with a list of names, hers being around the middle.

              “I recognize these names,” she told him, “but so would anyone else, this is a small town.”

              “What does PDT stand for,” he asked with a slight bit of urgency in his voice, telling Beth that something was off.

              “I don’t know,” she admitted, wishing she could be of more help, “I have never heard of it before. What is wrong Daryl?”

              “Found this paper on Randall,” the redneck told her, “I think it means…..I think it is something important, so what can you tell me about the people on this list.”

              “Okay,” Beth began, her eyes running down the page again, “what do you want to know about them?”

              “Anything,” he grunted, “just give me a place to start.”

              “Well,” the blonde started, “they all went the same high school as me, which isn’t surprising since it is the only one in town. I don’t really see anything that connects them. Ivy was raised by her grandmother since she was a kid after her parents took off on her. After college she was interning at the veterinary center.  Bryce Neutze, he was a bit of a spoiled kid, his parents owned a big portion of the town. He had good grades only because he cheated off of people and his parents paid for a private tutor to do his homework. He was in the same grade as me. Nathan Thompson was very artistic, he painted several of the murals in town and had his own business designing graphic t-shirts. Then there is me. Jacob Gun, he was a valedictorian a few years ago, recently he had been running for office in city hall. He had been doing very well for himself despite his young age. Then, Chase Carter, he was only a year older than me, a math whiz that also played football. That’s all I got, does it help at all.”

              She watched as Daryl took the paper back, his eyes working it over, trying to solve the puzzle.

              “So, y’all all went to the same high school, all of y’all around the same age, give or take a few years,” he asked, his brow furrowing.

              “Yup,” Beth agreed.

              “Have you seen any of them since this all started,” Daryl asked, his tone demanding.

              “No…. but I haven’t seen a lot of people I used to see,” Beth replied, her stomach starting to churn a bit “Daryl, what is wrong? Do you think something bad happens if your name is on this list?!”

              “Don’t know yet,” he grunted exasperated, “Don’t get all worked up over it. Just keep thinking about them, try to figure out if it means anything. Here, keep it, won’t do me any good, probably have to know these people ta figure it out.”

              He shoved the paper back in her hand and stalked off into the woods. Beth followed his movements until he disappeared. She looked back down at the paper in her hands, a heavy weight filling her stomach. If Daryl thought something was bad, it most likely was. However, for the life of her she couldn’t see any obvious connection between the names in her hand.

              Giving up for the moment and feeling much less peaceful than she had a few minutes ago, the young woman shoved the paper in the back pocket of her jeans. Then, she carefully arranged her mother’s necklace around her neck, clasping it together. It was funny how one object made her feel so comforted and loved and the other so apprehensive and worried. It kind of made sense that Daryl would give her such things though, because he gave her the same feelings with his attitude. Sometimes, he could be so nice and thoughtful and she trusted him a lot more than most people these days. However, sometimes he could also make her feel so insecure and nervous and a little bit scared.

              As Beth walked up to the house, she was unaware of Maggie’s hawk-like eyes that had been watching her interaction with the archer.


	5. Chapter 5

Beth didn’t have long to ponder over Daryl or the list he gave her.

“Stay far away from that redneck Bethy,” were Maggie’s first words to her upon reaching the porch.

“He isn’t that bad Maggie,” Beth began, but her sister quickly ran over her like a bulldozer.

“Glenn told me that when they found him after his accident in the woods, he was wearing a necklace of walker ears,” the brunette hissed at her, “now he has been beating up a kid your age! He is dangerous Bethy, stay away from him!”

Before the blonde could argue, their father appeared, requiring both of the sisters to help inside. Her daddy had decided that after Dale’s unfortunate death that it would be better for Rick’s group to move into the house. Beth was busy helping pull old mattresses out of storage and any other items that could be useful. Her wrist started hurting a little from the work, but she didn’t want to mention it to anyone. After all, it was minor compared to many of the problems they had.

Soon, the house was fuller than it had ever been. The guest bedroom was too full of supplies they were hoarding for anyone to sleep in there. Lori had announced that she was pregnant, so Hershel had offered to take the couch so she could have his bed. Carl and Rick would be staying in Hershel’s room with her. Maggie and Patricia ended up in Beth’s room while Maggie’s bedroom was taken over by Carol and Andrea. T-dog, Shawn, and Glenn would have to rough it the best they could in the living room with makeshift blankets and sleeping bags. Daryl still refused to live anywhere but his tent, but he seemed to be becoming familiar with being allowed in the house as he helped carry items in and move furniture around.

After hours of moving, Beth decided to take a break outside. She sat on the porch and tried to catch what little wind was blowing. Jimmy came and sat down beside her. This was as good a time as any. Beth pulled the paper Daryl had given her out of her pocket and offered it to her boyfriend. He took it and looked at it before giving her a raised eyebrow.

“Daryl found it on Randall,” Beth explained, “does it mean anything to you? I mean, they are people from our high school, vaguely around our age. I honestly can’t find anything to connect them.”

“Hmmm,” Jimmy contemplated, “well, the names are of people who graduated different years, who do different things, hang out in different social circles. The only similarity I could guess at is that all of y’all are pretty smart, except Neutze, everyone knows he only got good grades cuz of his parent’s money.”

“Pretty smart,” Beth repeated, her mind running.

Not all of the names on the list were valedictorians like Jacob Gun, but they were all fairly good students. The question was, were they all good enough to have been in the top 10 percent? If someone was making a list of people who had used the prospect device, wouldn’t they just go for the obvious ones though? The top one or two people from each class? The initials for Prospect Device were PD, but that didn’t explain the T at the end.

Jimmy could tell she was lost in thought, so he pulled her into his arms. It was funny, but the action no longer made Beth feel as safe as it used to. Just as she was about to extract herself, the screen door squeaked open and closed with a bang.

“Well,” commented Daryl with a thick Southern drawl in his voice, “if you two lovebirds ain’t got nothin else to do, y’all can board up the windows.”

With that, the hunter planted a hammer on the porch railing with a bang before striding off.

“You think that guy has ever heard of giving people some privacy,” asked Jimmy incredulously, staring at the redneck’s departing back.

“Ha,” she laughed, “well, guess it doesn’t matter anyway, not like anyone is going to have even the slightest hint of privacy anytime soon with everyone moving in.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy agreed, standing up to pick up the hammer, “guess we had better get started.”

“I will go find some nails if you will get some wood,” Beth agreed as she headed in the house, not in the least disappointed by Daryl breaking up her and Jimmy’s moment together.

Soon, Beth and her boyfriend were busy hammering nail after nail. It hurt Beth to drive nails into the house she had grown up in, but it was a silly thought when their safety was at stake. Rick showed up and approved of their work. The sheriff was soon met by Daryl and the two men discussed where they could drop Randall off, somewhere far enough away that the boy couldn’t figure out how to get back. Beth could tell that Rick was starting to depend on Daryl just as much if not more than Shane. Ever since Lori announced her pregnancy, the two best friends didn’t seem to get along as well anymore.

Beth didn’t think much of Shane, he was always too rash, ready to solve any answer with violence or the easiest way out. She preferred how Rick took his time to decide what was wrong or right and the best way to go about it. Daryl it seemed never had to think about it, he always knew the answer to the hard questions already. It could be because he had lived a hard life and had already had to face these kind of moral decisions before. Beth didn’t actually know almost anything about his past other than the little he let on about how his dad was a no-good drunk. However, she really couldn’t picture him smiling and laughing and hanging out with his family like most people did before all of this.

It was sad, because he certainly deserved it. He had proven himself again and again. Daryl searched for Sophia, hunted for meat, handled the barn situation, put Dale out of his misery, and was now working on the Randall situation. It was like  he was some super-human being, nothing phased him and nothing wore him out. Even after his incident with getting shot with his own arrow, Daryl seemed to have more energy than some people on their best day.

“Before we drop the kid off, I want to talk to him one more time,” Daryl told Rick.

“What for,” the sheriff questioned.

“Just got a few more questions, nothing too important,” the hunter played it off like no big deal.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Rick agreed, his attention trailing off as Shane pulled up to the house in a van.

Daryl seemed to take Shane’s appearance as his cue to leave, the two men didn’t exactly see eye to eye on almost anything.

“Gotta take a piss,” he said as an excuse to slip away, his crude statement making the blonde wince.

Beth wished he would stay, she felt safe with the archer around and very on edge with Shane around. However, Rick and Jimmy were there, it wasn’t like she was alone.

“Don’t go being a bother, you have to get used to doing things yourself,” Beth thought, “can’t go running to Daryl just cuz Shane gives you the creeps.”

Beth pounded another nail in, her forearm aching, but she didn’t complain. Instead, she was listening closely to Rick and Shane’s conversation. Shane was telling Rick how Carl felt guilty for Dale’s death, since he had seen the walker that had attacked Dale and hadn’t killed it. Rick was going to talk to Carl after Randall was taken care of, but Shane kept pushing him to do it now. He began offering to go with Daryl to drop Randall off, which Rick immediately shot down. If Beth was right, she thought she could detect a bit of wariness in Rick’s voice, not trusting his friend with Randall or Daryl. Shane detected it too and it pissed him off. He started accusing Rick, but the leader still didn’t relent on his plan. Finally, Shane left, but not before slamming a gun on the porch railing.

“Here, give this back to Daryl, Carl had it,” Shane snapped, “and have fun freeing that prisoner with your new best friend rather than taking care of your own son.”

It was a low blow and Beth turned around just in time to see the look on Rick’s face.

“You are a good father,” Beth said softly, causing Rick to snap out the thoughts he was lost in, “don’t let Shane tell you any different.”

“Thank you Beth,” Rick replied with a genuine smile, “would you mind taking this to Daryl for me, I need to go talk to Carl.”

“Of course,” the young woman promised, taking the weapon from Rick.

She found the owner of the gun not far away, he was talking to T-dog as they loaded up a truck for the journey to drop off Randall. As she walked towards them, T-dog went to go get Randall out. Daryl didn’t seem to even notice her at first, he was leaned up against the truck smoking a cigarette. For once, he looked a bit relaxed, Beth didn’t want to ruin it but she also felt like creep standing behind him staring. She stepped forward, causing a twig to snap and Daryl immediately looked behind him. The blonde thought she would get more used to being met with those intense, sharp blue eyes, but every time it froze her blood just as much as the first time.

“Um,” she muttered, her thoughts a bit scrambled, “this is yours, Carl had it.”

Beth walked around the truck and held out the gun.

“Was wonderin where that got to,” he grunted, taking the gun out of her hand and looking it up and down, “if that woman would ever keep an eye on her damn kid shit like this wouldn’t happen.”

Suddenly, T-dog’s voice reached them as the man came running.

“Prisoner, he’s gone,” shouted the man, “handcuffs were unlatched and the door was locked again.”

Immediately Rick appeared, followed by the rest of the group. Everyone was talking at once, when Shane came out of the forest, yelling. He claimed Randall snuck up on him and stole his gun. Immediately, Daryl said what everyone else was thinking.

“So this injured, 100 pound kid just snuck up and got the better of you,” he questioned, loading as much skepticism into one sentence as Beth had ever heard.

No matter what had actually happened, the problem that Randall had escaped needed to be handled. It was decided that Rick, Shane, Daryl, and Glenn would all looking for the prisoner.

They all began to head out, but Beth caught Daryl’s arm before he could leave.

“T-dog says the door was still locked when he went to check it,” she whispered to him, “there is no way Randall would have gotten out and locked it back up again.”

“I know,” he grunted in agreement, his eyes staring at her for a moment.

“Take this,” he finally said, offering her the gun she had just brought him.

“But Daryl,” Beth disputed, “you are about to go out into the woods searching, you probably need it more than I do.”

“Naw,” he insisted, “If Randall does make it back to his old group, you may need it more than I do. Just hold onto it, if anything happens before we get back, anyone you don’t know comes to the farm, don’t hesitate.”

The blonde managed to nod as she attached the gun to her belt.

“Be safe,” she managed to get out.

“Always am sunshine,” he chuckled, “now get your ass in the house, go on.”

Right then, Jimmy came up, pulling on Beth’s arm. The funny thing is, that despite the danger outside, the last thing Beth wanted to do was go with him. However, she allowed herself to be dragged into the house, with one last glance at Daryl’s disappearing back.

Lori was a mess of nerves, Carl was nowhere to be found, and Andrea kept wanting to go with the men to hunt for Randall even though they were already long gone. Hershel came downstairs to keep the peace.

“Where did you get that,” Jimmy asked, looking down at Beth’s hip, where the gun was partially covered by her loose cardigan.

“Daryl, but don’t tell daddy,” Beth pleaded.

“That redneck gave you a gun,” her boyfriend asked in astonishment, “he is so possessive of all of his weapons, I asked him to borrow a knife the other day and you would have thought I asked him to chop his hand off.”

“Well, it’s an emergency situation,” the young woman reasoned, “I’m sure he will want it back as soon as they find Randall.”

“But why you,” asked Jimmy suspiciously, “I mean he could have given it to anyone, Andrea knows how to shoot better.”

“Andrea already has a gun,” Beth countered, “maybe I was just closest to him.”

The young man didn’t seem convinced, but Beth had had enough of the interrogation. There was enough to worry about without them arguing. She walked over to Maggie, who was looking anxiously between a small crack in the boards that were over the window.

“Glenn will be fine,” she told her sister, “why don’t we go upstairs, those windows are not boarded, we can probably see them coming back from there.”

The brunette agreed and the two sisters headed upstairs.

“Ya know,” Maggie began, “it’s kind of hard liking someone in this world, not knowing if they will come back or if you will ever see them again.”

“You can’t think like that,” Beth told her sister determinedly, despite feeling the same “we have to trust that they know how to handle any situation they get into.”

“I don’t know what I would do if something happens to Glenn,” her sister admitted, on the verge of tears, “I never even told him how I felt about him, I was more of a jerk to him because I was scared to get close and then loose him.”

The blonde wrapped her sister in a hug.

“It will be okay,” she promised, “Rick’s group is strong. Rick and Shane are used to dangerous situations from their former job. Glenn has been doing runs for a long time now and Daryl can handle just about anything.”

That calmed Maggie down.

“Thanks Bethy,” the brunette told her, squeezing her tighter before her eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you have under your shirt,” her sister questioned, “where did you get that gun?”

Luckily, Beth was saved from answering by Glenn and Daryl striding out of the woods. Beth breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the gruff man. They ran downstairs, alerting everyone else and the door was opened to the two men, who were immediately bombarded with questions.

“Rick and Shane ain’t back,” inquired the redneck, ignoring everyone’s talk.

“No,” Andrea informed them, “heard a shot, maybe they found Randall.”

“We found him,” Daryl informed them.

“Is he back in the shed,” asked Maggie.

“No,” the hunter said as if it was obvious, “he is a walker.”

“Did you find the walker that bit him,” Hershel asked.

“No,” Glenn answered, “weird thing is, he wasn’t bit.”

The group silenced at that reply, an uneasiness entering the room. Beth’s eyes looked to Daryl, probing for answers.

“His neck was broke,” the archer informed everyone.

“He fought back,” Beth surmised.

“Thing is,” Daryl mused, “Shane and Randall’s tracks were right on top of each other and Shane ain’t no tracker. He didn’t come up behind them, they were together.”

Beth felt her stomach drop. She had always felt uneasy around Shane, but now she knew it was for good reason. Lori was immediately up and pleading with Daryl.

“Will you please go out and find my husband and Shane,” she entreated.

“Course,” Daryl replied, heading back out the door.

Everyone became focused on Glenn, who had all the details that Daryl had glossed over. Beth ran out after Daryl, only to almost run into his back as he came to a complete stop.

“Shit,” he cussed, staring out into the dark.

Beth peered around him, her eyes slowly adjusting to make out broken movements all around the tree line. Walkers, over a hundred, were all staggering towards them, more and more appearing out of the forest every second. It suddenly clicked, the same way it had when her mother had been sick and Jimmy had been come out to sit on the porch with her. She knew what was going to happen next.

              She ran inside, telling all the others that a whole herd was coming. Quickly, everyone was gathered on the porch. Patricia turned off the lights and Andrea pulled out a bag of weapons. Glenn suggested hiding in the house until the herd passed by, which her daddy was in agreement with. Daryl shot the idea down immediately, telling them that the herd was too big for the house to withstand an attack. The men were arguing and all Beth could see was the image of Patricia having her throat ripped out. She quickly made her way to the woman and tried to give her a gun.

“I can’t,” Patricia refused, “I don’t know how to shoot well enough, I’m more likely to hurt someone than actually stop one of those things.”

Suddenly, Lori was in their midst screaming for Carl and drawing more walkers their way. Patricia ran off to help Carol get the distraught mother inside and Beth could only hope the woman would be safe in there. Maggie was helping Andrea hand out guns.

“Ain’t no use,” Daryl muttered, “can’t you see how many of them there are. We won’t even make a dent.”

“You can go if you want,” Hershel told him, “but this is my farm and I intend to protect it.”

“You gonna take them all on,” asked Daryl, looking at Hershel like he was crazy.

“We got guns, cars, we can handle it,” Hershel said as he loaded his 22.

Andrea was in agreement, already coming up with a plan on how to use the cars to lure the walkers away.

“Are you serious,” exclaimed Daryl, with the same amount doubt Beth felt.

“This is my farm,” Hershel stated firmly, “I will die before I leave here.”

“Alright,” shrugged the archer, “tonight’s as good a night as any.”

“Daddy,” Beth argued, trying to talk some sense into her father, “it’s not going to work, we are going to be overrun.”

“Bethy,” her daddy ignored, “go inside with Patricia.”

“No,” she snapped, “I know how this is going to go down, we cannot stay here!”

Everyone else was so distracted, no one other than Daryl was paying attention to their conversation.

“You can’t know that sweetheart,” her father insisted, “go on inside where it is safe.”

“It isn’t safe inside or anywhere here,” Beth argued, “and I do know! You know what I saw!”

The conversation came to a halt as flames suddenly started rising from the barn.

“Rick’s up there,” Daryl spotted, pointed towards the barn loft.

Lori came running outside in tears, seeing not only her husband but her son surrounded by walkers. Everyone was trying to figure out how to get them out, but there were just too many of the undead collected around the barn. Beth’s thoughts kept jumping back to the only glimpse she had of this scenario. In it, she had been on the roof and jumped onto an RV to get away. Would the same thing work for Rick and Carl?

“The RV,” Beth shouted, “we can pull it up close enough for them to jump on without having to take out all the walkers!”

“That might work,” Daryl agreed, “alright, Jimmy and Beth, y’all think y’all can get to them if we cover y’all?”

The blonde nodded and Jimmy was soon at her side ready to go. Glenn tossed them the keys and they ran for the RV. Jimmy got in the driver’s seat as Beth began trying to open the hatch to the top of the RV so Rick and Carl could get inside once they were on top. The lever that opened it was stuck and Beth was having trouble since one hand she had to use to hang on to the ladder. Suddenly, the RV lurched forward as Jimmy put it in drive.

The blonde climbed down, trying not to fall as the RV ride became turbulent from going offroad. The young woman dug desperately through the kitchen supplies, not finding what she needed. A sharp turn sent her tumbling into the kitchen seat and utensils rained down from above. Shots rang out from outside the RV. By some miracle, she spotted a hammer that had fallen on the floor. She quickly snatched it up just as she heard the RV hit what she could only assume was a walker.

“Beth,” yelled Jimmy, “we are almost there, is the hatch open?”

“Almost,” cried Beth, as she ran back to the ladder, hammer in hand.

It took a few hits, but Beth managed to get the lever to move. She threw the hammer down and pulled with all of her might. A sudden stop caused her to yank the lever, which popped the hatch right open.

“Get on,” yelled Jimmy.

The young woman began crawling out the hatch to see Rick and Carl standing almost a meter away from her on the barn loft. It was a long jump for Carl.

“I’ll catch you,” the blonde yelled, holding out her arms.

Rick said something to his son, who then walked back hesitantly, before running towards her. Carl was suspended in air for a second, but then he landed on the edge of the RV. Beth grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him onto the middle of the roof before he could fall off.

That is when she heard the screaming. It was most certainly Jimmy’s voice.

“Jimmy,” she screamed, running over to the opening in the hood just as Rick landed on the RV.

She looked down to see Jimmy being torn apart by the walkers, his brown eyes fixed on her right before they went blank.

“Come on,” yelled Rick as he shot the nearest walkers.

Beth hurried down the ladder, helping Carl down, the whole while feeling like she was in some horrible nightmare. While Rick was getting down, Beth pulled out the gun Daryl had given her and shot a few walkers. With the chaos and how bad her hands were shaking, she wouldn’t have hit them except that they were at such close range.

“We can’t make it to the house,” shouted Rick, “we gotta go towards the woods.”

Beth began following them, but was quickly cut off by a group of walkers. She darted around them only to run into more. The blonde began ducking and dodging, but it was like they were multiplying. She raised the gun and shot the closest one, only to have it replaced by another. One suddenly went down that she hadn’t even been aiming at.

The blonde looked over to see Daryl, standing over his running motorcycle, shooting at anything that came near her. He looked like a guardian angel standing there, as if this is what he had been put on God’s green Earth to do. The look in his eye was fiercer than Beth had ever seen it.  She ran over to him as he continued taking out the walkers, hitting each one in the head with a kind of cold professionalism.

“Get on,” he shouted over the noise.

The blonde swung a leg over and before she could figure out exactly where to sit or how to hold on, they were moving. She instinctively wrapped her hands around Daryl’s waist to hold on. They were moving too fast for the walkers to be much of a threat now. The blonde looked around, her eyes searching for her father, only to spot him shooting walkers near the house. Maggie, Carol, Lori, and Patricia were walking out of the house, heading for a car.

“No,” yelled Beth, knowing what was about to happen, but her voice was lost in the chaos.

Patricia was looking the wrong way when a walker lunged at her, tearing her hand out of Carol’s.

Beth wasn’t very sure what happened after that. It all began to blend together, the fire, the walkers, the shooting, and the screams. She buried her face in Daryl’s jacket until all the noise began to fade and was replaced by only the sound of the motorcycle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your compliments and support, I really appreciate it! This chapter has skipped a bit more forward because while I really want to grow Daryl and Beth's relationship, I also don't want to be stuck following the TV series forever.

**Beth’s POV**

            Beth looked out over the prison as she bounced Judith in her arms. It had taken a lot of work and time for the group to get where they were now. She remembers them living in the woods, always scared and trying not to bite each other’s heads off. Then, Rick and Daryl had found the prison. The two men led the group in clearing it the area, making it safe. They had gained a lot, a safe home, new people in the form of previous prisoners, and some sense of normalcy. They had also lost a lot, Hershel’s leg, T-dog, and Lori. The thought of Lori brought tears to Beth’s eyes, it had only been yesterday after all.

              The blonde bounced the baby in her arms, remembering how Daryl had handed the young girl to her.

              “Can you handle her,” he had asked, his voice deadly serious.

              Beth had just nodded, taking the baby from his coarse hands. She had baby-sat for the neighbors before, she had some clue of what to do with an infant. That was only the second time he had talked to her since the night the farm was overrun. After Beth had hopped on Daryl’s motorcycle, they had driven off on a path with the least walkers in the way. She didn’t know how long they drove or what made Daryl stop but when they did it was in the middle of nowhere. Beth had tried to control her sobbing, struggling to not look like a total blubbering idiot in front of him, but it had been of no use. She didn’t know if she would see her family again, if they were even still alive. Nothing could have prepared her for the harsh reality, not even the prospect device.

              Daryl on the other hand was completely stoic and staring her down. It made her feel a bit like an animal at the other end of a shotgun but she was fairly certain he wouldn’t hurt her.

              “You knew,” he finally spoke, his eyes narrowing as he inspected her.

              The young woman managed to get a nod in before her whole body was racked with a violent crying episode.

              “How did you know,” he asked suspiciously, grasping his crossbow as if she was some sort of threat.

              When Beth didn’t answer but continued sobbing, he suddenly appeared right in front of her, causing her to back up.

              “Answer me girl,” he snarled, looking like a pitbull ready to bite.

              “The prospect device,” she managed to choke out as she raised up a hand to keep him from pushing into her personal space too much.

              Her answer stopped the archer in his tracks though. He seemed to think on what she had said, his thumb rubbing up and down his crossbow handle.

              “Never thought it was real,” he mused after a minute, “always assumed they just fed y’all a bunch of crap videos that would encourage you to work harder.”

              “I saw this,” Beth admitted for the first time, “I saw the walkers, I didn’t know what they were then or what was going on, but I knew something was wrong.”

              “Why didn’t you warn us,” asked the hunter in an icy tone, “why didn’t you tell anyone that a whole damn herd was coming to the house?”

              “I didn’t see everything,” Beth cried at the accusation he was placing on her, “do you really think I’m that horrible to not do something that could have saved us? I saw it happen, but I didn’t know when or how and it didn’t actually turn out just like I saw…..it changed.”

              “Changed how,” he asked skeptically, his muscles tensing as he gripped his crossbow tighter.

              “The RV,” Beth admitted, “in what I saw, the herd overwhelmed the house and I was up on the roof because I couldn’t get away. Someone drove the RV over and I hopped on it. That is how I knew to use the RV to get Rick and I made sure that I didn’t get stuck in the house so I wouldn’t have to be saved. But then because of me, Jimmy, he…..”

              The young woman couldn’t continue as she began to process what had happened to Jimmy. At the time, with the adrenaline coursing through her veins, chaos surrounding her, she hadn’t fully registered the loss of her former boyfriend. Sure, in the end she had known he wasn’t the one for her, but that didn’t make it any easier. Beth had known Jimmy since they were kids, they had shared a lot of memories, and he had died such a horrible death.

              “What else do you know,” demanded Daryl, pulling Beth out of the dark past she was reliving.

              “Not much,” Beth promised, “really, I didn’t see a ton of useful things, just bits and pieces that I don’t really understand. Some of the scenes I saw have already past, others are still yet to come.”

              “Tell me in as much detail as you can remember,” the archer ordered, “I don’t care how fucking unimportant it seems, everything.”

              “Okay,” began Beth, trying to collect her thoughts, “the porch with Jimmy, my mom dying, the farm being overrun, have all already happened. Then, I saw me out in the woods with a gun, I looked scared.”

              “Were you alone,” questioned Daryl.

              “Yes,” Beth answered, “then I saw Maggie get engaged.”

              At that the redneck raised one eyebrow.

              “To the Asian dude,” he asked.

              “I don’t know,” Beth told him, “and he is Korean.”

              “Whatever,” Daryl muttered, as he began checking his bike and their meager possessions, before he made a motion with his hand indicating that she should continue.

              “In it I mentioned something about making a cafeteria look nice for the wedding,” Beth told Daryl as he counted out the number of bullets he had in one of the compartments on his bike.

              “Hmmm,” mused the older man, “ya see anything in this vision, where we were?”

              “In the next part I did,” she described, “very dark, metal furniture, looked solid but depressing.”

              “And what was happening in this,” the hunter pushed as he pulled out a map and began looking around.

              “I was holding a baby,” Beth told him, “you were there. At least now, I’m pretty sure it was your voice.”

              That got Daryl’s attention, his head whipped around, his eyes focusing on her.

              “Wonderin why you been starin at me like I’m a fucking ghost,” he commented, causing Beth to blush.

              She hadn’t realized she had been gawking at him, but she must have been. Daryl was attractive, in a rough around the edges sort of way. She wished she could tell herself that what she had seen was the only reason she felt a special draw towards the older hunter. However, Beth didn’t have time to sort out her feelings. If Daryl thought the only reason she looked at him was because of a vision, then she wasn’t going to correct him.

              “Anyway, “Beth hurriedly changed the subject, “in another one it is the two of us again, running through the woods, I’m just following you and you are in front of me. The next you were shooting a walker and trying to tell me how to do it….but you weren’t exactly very patient.”

              The rough man snorted at her description of his attitude, which she didn’t go into more detail on. The next scene, the one where he was staring at her over the kitchen counter felt personal, even though this was the man she shared the moment with. Somehow, Beth couldn’t bring herself to tell Daryl, she felt like maybe then it would change too and she would never find out what changed his mind.

              “Next,” Beth continued, “we were in a kitchen somewhere, you were eating something really disgusting and we had peanut butter and coke.”

              “Got a lot of visons of me,” Daryl commented as he began drawing on the map, his eyes cutting over to look at her.

              “I didn’t pick them,” Beth defended, “just saw what I saw. Then, I was reunited with you and Rick and Carl and Maggie outside of some rundown hospital.”

              Beth also left out the part about Daryl saying he missed her and holding her hand. It felt too personal to share just yet.

              “That’s it,” she said nervously, intertwining her fingers in front of herself as Daryl began folding the map up.

              “Knew there was no fucking cure,” he spat, as he climbed back on the bike.

              “Get on,” Daryl instructed as he started the motorcycle.

              This time, Beth felt more self-conscious getting on. She had time to notice how broad Daryl’s shoulders were, how tight his stomach was against her hands, and just how close they had to ride together. He smelled like dirt and forest and hay, it was almost relaxing how much it reminded her of the scents of her childhood. Then, the engine revved and wind was blowing through Beth’s hair. She couldn’t see in front of them but trees flashed by on either side. Daryl finally turned off the dirt road onto a paved one, making his way between abandoned vehicles. Finally stopping beside an RV that had her family and the other survivors.

              That was the most she talked to Daryl for the next few weeks. Other than occasional grunt or terse sentence, he stayed away from her and almost everyone else while they traveled on the road. It probably hadn’t helped that anytime he did end up near her, Maggie suddenly appeared, making it very clear that she didn’t want the archer anywhere near her little sister.

The silence ended when they were clearing out the prison. The blonde, Carl, and Carol had been tasked with stabbing walkers through the fence. The young woman broke off from the others to work on another area that was building up. She was clumsily completing the mission, almost losing her metal rod through the fence whenever it got stuck in a dead body. That is when Daryl had walked up noiselessly behind her, startling the young woman with his words.

              “Like this,” he instructed, stabbing a walker through the eye socket with a grace and skill that Beth found mesmerizing.

              “Go through the eye or the mouth of these bastards, less resistance, then pull out as quickly as ya can,” he explained in his usual gruff voice.

              The blonde nodded, trying again. She was happy to find that, although very sloppy compared to the redneck’s movements, her ability to put down the walkers was improved.

              “Thanks Daryl,” she said, smiling despite the heat and the hard work.

              He gave her a curt nod, his eyes causing her to heat up under his gaze. That is when Maggie had magically appeared, as if she sensed any interaction between the two from a mile away.

              “Need help there Beth,” Maggie asked, glaring at Daryl, making it clear that she would be the one to teach her sister.

              “Bitch,” Beth thought she heard the older man cuss under his breath as he walked away.

              That was the limit of her interaction with the archer, until yesterday, when he had delicately handed the crying baby into her hands. It was surprising to see how good Daryl was with Lori’s daughter, but then again he had cared just as much about Sophia.

              The moment Beth held the baby in her arms, she knew it was the baby from her vision. Later that night, Daryl had come to check in her and the baby and for once, Maggie’s third sense failed, most likely due to sneaking off with a certain Asian boy. It was dark and they had no source of light other than a few flashlights, which were only for emergencies. However, the young woman could sense the moment the rough man walked into her cell.

              “Hey,” he greeted, sounding tired.

              He had to dead on his feet, he had taken on all of Rick’s duties when the whole group was in chaos. The blonde knew Daryl and Carol were close, with the older woman missing, he was hurting.

              “How is she,” he asked, sounded like a parent.

              Beth curiously wondered if Daryl had kids of his own, before the world had ended.

              “Fine,” Beth replied, “but she is hungry, really hungry.”

              “Found this,” he rasped, pulling a can of formula out of his backpack, along with a bottle, “ain’t much, but Maggie and Glenn are gonna go search for more tomorrow.”

              “That’s perfect, thank you Daryl,” Beth exclaimed, taking the packet.

              She hurriedly mixed the powder with some water they had boiled earlier. Then, she held the bottle to the girl’s lips, which immediately latched on. The archer seemed content to lean against the wall and watch Judith feed. He seemed a lot like a mother hawk looking over her fledglings. When Judith finished, she began giggling and reaching for Beth’s hair, her energy now restored by the meal.

              “Who’s a good girl,” Beth asked, rocking the baby in her arms.

              “Little ass-kicker right there,” came Daryl’s voice out of the darkness.

              “Haha, Daryl,” Beth laughed, enjoying that her vison was coming to life, “she is only a few months old, she is a long way from kicking anyone’s ass.”

              “But she will someday,” replied the man, “anyone that grows up in this world can’t be any less.”

              The blonde thought on that a moment before replying.

              “Until then,” Beth told him, “she has all of us. And especially you, she probably wouldn’t make it until morning if you didn’t find the formula.”

              “Just one meal, maybe two if you can stretch it” the coarse man grunted, obviously not satisfied with his haul, “gonna need a hell of a lot more than that.”

              “We will figure it out,” Beth encouraged, “we always have. Just a couple of weeks ago we were out on the road, barely staying alive. Now we have a secure home, beds, and new people.”

              “Only found it cuz of what you said,” Daryl grunted.

              “What I said,” Beth asked, confused.

              “You said in the future you saw a dark place with lots of dark, metal furniture,” the redneck reminded her, “so that is what I looked for when we were out on the road. Couldn’t have been a regular house, didn’t sound near as cozy. Knew it had to be some kind of facility to be built like that. When I saw the prison from a distance, knew that is what you had seen.”

              “Oh,” the blonde said, stunned by the fact that she had played some small role in getting the group to this secure prison.

              They two lapsed into silence as the baby began to quiet down. Finally, Daryl decided it was time for him to go.

              “Need anythin, just holler,” he told her, before walking off, most likely to start guard duty.

              That was last night, today, Maggie and Glenn had left at first light in search of more baby formula. Beth was starting to get worried, because they should have been back by now. The blonde had mixed what little remaining powder was still on the edges of the packet, but she had mostly fed the baby water for breakfast. The little girl needed to eat soon.

              She rocked the girl in her arms, trying to calm the crying infant as she stared out the prison window. Every minute felt like an hour, where was her sister? Then, a figure appeared out of the woods. At first, Beth was excited thinking it was Maggie and Glenn, but it was only one person who didn’t fit either of the two people’s descriptions. The mysterious figure wore a cloak and was carrying a basket. What looked like a sword was strapped on the person’s back. The stranger limped all the way to the fence and just stood there, clinging to the wire as if they were about to fall down.

              Before Beth could call Daryl, she saw Rick racing across the field. Right before he reached the cloaked figure, it collapsed. The blonde watched as Carl went over and helped Rick carry the person and the basket into the prison.

**Daryl’s POV**

              By Daryl’s standards, the day had been going pretty fucking good, until it didn’t. He had been clearing out some other levels of the prison with Axel, Oscar, and Carl. They had made good progress. The best part was finding Carol, still alive in a closet. It wasn’t until he returned to Cell Block C that everything went to shit. Some strange bitch had appeared at their gate and had told Rick that Maggie and Glenn had been kidnapped by a person called the Governor. Soon, plans were being drawn up to sneak into the camp. It had to be tonight.

              The group dispersed to prepare, but Daryl was already ready, he always was. When he heard a soft, sweet voice singing, he followed the sound to Beth’s room, where the young woman was humming to the infant. The baby wasn’t even Beth’s, but she took better care of that little girl than Daryl’s own mother had taken care of him. There was something calming about watching them, seeing the blonde sway side to side as the child reached its chubby arms up towards her golden locks. It made everything he did worth it.

              Daryl cleared his throat, causing Hershel’s youngest to spin around. Then, she threw one of those smiles his way, like he was the best thing she had seen all day.  Daryl knew how to read most people, but he could never understand Beth. He had learned from a young age that people were shitty and self-centered and violent. Since the apocalypse, his view had only become more confirmed. There were a few exceptions, like Rick. However even Rick had a crazy side, like when he killed Shane and took charge of the group. The leader was currently a bit loose in the head since his wife died, but Daryl didn’t blame him. However, Beth just seemed to get brighter the darker everything else got.

              He had first noticed that when they were living on the move. Every time someone felt like they couldn’t go on, the blonde was there hugging and encouraging them. The first night at the prison, the girl sang and it was like everything was going to be okay. Then, when he had given her the huge responsibility of a newborn without a mother or food, she had taken it on without a thought and treated the little girl like her own. Her selflessness almost didn’t compute, didn’t make sense given what he knew about how dark human nature could be.

              It made sense to him why Maggie was insanely protective of someone so precious. The older sister had all but given him the ‘I will kill you if you dare lay a hand on her’ glare for the past two weeks. He didn’t blame the brunette though, he knew what he looked like and what people thought of him. Hell, he would give the same look to anyone who he thought might hurt her. In fact, he had to Axel a number of times. He had walked by cell block B one time and happened to hear Axel telling Oscar about the ‘hot little blonde’ and he had barely restrained himself as he snarled at the man to keep his eyes in his fucking sockets unless he wanted to lose them. Since then, he had been keeping an eye on the young woman. It wasn’t hard since something about Beth just drew him in, like a moth to her bright flame.

              “Daryl,” she asked, her blue eyes turning towards him like he wasn’t some filthy redneck, “y’all are going to get them back, right?”

              “Course,” he answered curtly, because that is exactly what he intended to do.

              “Be careful, okay,” she requested.

              The young woman’s words startled him. The hunter was still getting used to people asking him for shit, like cutting up a walker to make sure what it had eaten wasn’t Sophia or clearing out part of the prison. However, it hadn’t actually gotten so far as anyone else in the group actually worrying about his well-being. Rick might have if he hadn’t gone off the deep end recently. He nodded, causing her to beam up at him.

              “Still got that gun I gave ya,” he asked, his mind turning to how defenseless the prison would be during this rescue mission.

              “Always wear it,” Beth told him, turning so he could see the weapon looped onto her belt.

              “If shit hits the fan while we are gone,” he told her, “get the girl out. Got some extra weapons in my room, grab them if you need to.”

              The blonde nodded, looking uncertain but determined. She wasn’t made for this world, but she was sure was trying her damn best.

              “Remember the place we stayed the night before we came to the prison,” the archer asked.

              Beth said she did.

              “Anything happens, I will come get you there,” he told her.

              “I’ve got this Daryl,” she tells him, her arms wrapping protectively around the baby.

              And despite the fact that she isn’t more than a 100 pounds soaking wet and only learned the right way to kill walkers a few weeks ago, Daryl believes her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the wonderful comments. Hopefully after this chapter, things should start diverging a bit more from the TV show. Have a Happy Easter!

**Daryl’s POV**

“It was Merle, he did this,” Maggie told him, tears streaming down her cheek and leaving clean lines in the dirt.

“Shit,” was Daryl’s first thought.

Merle always got into trouble, but this was beyond even Daryl’s wildest dreams.

“He is the one who brought us here,” the brunette sobbed, “he threw a walker in with Glenn! He was going to execute us!”

This time his older brother may have dug a hole too deep for even Daryl to get him out of.

“I gotta see him,” were the first words out of Daryl’s mouth, even in the face of all of Maggie’s accusations.

“No,” Rick immediately shot down, “Daryl, look at Glenn, he can barely stand, we have to get him out of here. This isn’t the time to go looking for Merle, the whole town is out to kill us. In order to get out, we need everyone, you included.”

Daryl nodded, they were on a mission, he couldn’t just abandon them, but this conversation was far from over. The group snuck out the back of the house they were hiding in, trying to slip unnoticed in the dark towards the gate. The Korean man was bleeding and Rick had to help him stand. The samurai woman had disappeared. They were almost home free when the shooting started. Everyone took cover behind a building, but they couldn’t stay there. They couldn’t leave either. Any time one of the poked their head out, a barrage of gunfire was unleashed. The archer knew what he had to do.

“Gonna cover ya’ll,” he told Rick, “throw the smoke grenades and run for the gate.”

“Can’t leave you to cover us,” the former sheriff told him, “you won’t make it out.”

“Can’t get out any other way,” he told the leader, not mentioning his own reasons for not wanting to leave the community.

It happened fast, T-dog rolled a grenade out, the others started running, and Daryl started firing. He could hear yelling, knew one of his own had been hit, couldn’t tell who, he was too focused on covering them. Finally, he could tell all of the gunfire was focused on him. He just had to hold out long enough, he knew Merle would come for him. His older brother always bailed him out of trouble, granted he was usually the one that got Daryl in trouble in the first place.

He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He reloaded his gun and let off a few rounds, just enough to keep anyone from trying to come near him. At the seconds ticked by, he had to go on the offensive again and again to keep the men from trying to move closer to him. Finally, he was out of ammo.

“Come on Merle,” he groaned, pulling his crossbow off his back, not liking his odds in a gunfight.

The smoke had pretty much cleared, he could see a man running towards him. He pulled the trigger, causing a bolt to sprout out of the guy’s chest. The man fell down. Suddenly, he was charged, Daryl took down person after person, but his bolts were a limited supply. Soon, he was out. He tossed his beloved weapon to the ground and raised his fists up as he was assaulted on all sides. Fists pummeled him, but no bullets touched him. The hunter was a good fighter, but there were too many.

Finally, someone got in a good punch to his stomach that drove him to the ground, where a pain in the back of his head caused him to see stars. Then, material was pulled over his head and he was in darkness.

**Beth’s POV**

The blonde rocked Judith, trying to calm the baby girl as much as her own anxiety. Rick and Daryl and the others had left just before sunset to go and rescue Maggie and Glenn. The hours had passed and her worry only grew. Then, to add to the suspense, Carl had heard noises in the prison and gone to check it out. She worried about the young boy, but he was more capable than most kids his age. Her father, while up and moving again, was in no condition yet to be moving beyond Cell Block C. Carol, since her near-death experience, hadn’t gone any deeper into the prison. That left Axel, who the blonde couldn’t seem to get rid of. The former prisoner had come into her cell, watching her in a way that made her skin crawl.

“How old are you,” the unwanted guest asked.

“Seventeen,” the blonde replied, wishing he would go away.

“That’s very interesting,” the older man mused, irritating the young woman further.

“You are very good with her,” he observed, watching as she tickled the baby’s stomach.

“I’m not just good with babies,” the blonde said in her coldest voice, turning and lifting Judith in a way that hiked her shirt up, reveling the gun on her hip.

“Ah,” Axel said, his eyes flicking down at the weapon, “maybe I should go and check on Carol. Maybe she needs some help.”

“That would be best,” the young woman agreed, staring at him, trying to make her small frame appear threatening.

It must have worked, because soon, Axel was making his way out of her cell. Beth breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t know if she could have actually done anything if he refused to leave. Sure, she had a few lessons on shooting, she had learned to kill walkers recently, but a human was different. On top of that she had Judith, how was she supposed to protect herself while also keeping a baby safe? The blonde was just glad that her bluff had worked, not that it was entirely a bluff. She would have at least tried to follow through.

That is when strange voices reached her ears and the sound of a gate locking.

“Hey, kid,” came a female voice, “open this gate, let us out of here!”

“I can’t do that,” came Carl’s voice.

“Back away Sasha,” came a deep male voice, “this is safer than anywhere we have been for the past few months. Their place, their rules.”

The blonde put Judith down on a makeshift crib in a box, which she had written ‘Ass-kicker’ on with a sharpie, and went out to check on Carl’s situation. Turns out, he had found a group running from walkers and had led them back, locking them in one of the cells. It was a group of five, two siblings, then a dad and his wife and son. The wife, had already been bit and had to be put down.

Soon, Hershel, Carol, and Axel had heard the commotion and made their way over. The son needed medical attention and since none of them saw the strangers as an immediate threat, it was decided that her father would go in to help him. Pretty soon, everyone was on talking terms. They insisted the strangers stay in the cell, but they went in to chat with them. The blonde could hear Judith crying, so she went to get the baby. It was around feeding time and the main water source was in the cell with the newcomers. She grabbed a bottle and made her way back.

All the heads in the room turned towards her when she entered with Judith.

“I never thought I would see another baby again,” breathed Sasha, staring in disbelief.

“Wow,” breathed Tyreese, the brother, “this is amazing.”

The blonde filled up the bottle and shook it, before letting the little girl feed.

“This is Judith,” she introduced, smiling down at the amazing creation in her hands.

“Are you feeling okay,” asked Sasha, suddenly concerned.

It took a moment for Beth to understand what the woman was asking.

“Oh, no I’m not the mother,” she said quickly, embarrassed by the idea.

“Where is she,” Tyreese asked.

The silence said it all.

“Can we come out now,” asked the son in the group, “I promise, we aren’t a threat.”

“That isn’t up to us,” said Hershel, “there are others in our group. Our leader will decide when he gets back.”

“Where are they,” asked the girl, around Beth’s age.

“Had to go on a run,” the blonde lied, not wanting to give everything away.

The appearance of strangers had made her mind forget her unease, but now it came back with full force. It had been roughly and hour or two since Carl had brought the strangers back, where was Rick and the others?

**Daryl’s POV**

The redneck gasped for air as the material was pulled off his head. The scene before him kind of made him wish that it had never come off though. The whole town of Woodbury was gathered around him. Fires burned, giving the whole atmosphere an even creepier quality. Merle stood there, across the empty circle, staring at him with a look of horror. His brother looked older, his missing hand had an attachment with a knife on it, making him look more intimidating than normal.

“Ya said you would let Daryl go,” Merle argued with a man with a patch over his eye.

“No,” the man disagreed, “I said I would reunite y’all, and here you go, your brother.”

Then, the man with the eyepatch, whom Daryl could only assume was the Governor strode out and began working the crowd. He accused Merle of plotting the attack on the town, called Daryl a terrorist. Soon, the crowd was in a frenzy. His brother was restrained by several men and the knife attachment on his arm removed.

“Kill them,” they chanted, booing and stomping.

It was like one of Daryl’s nightmares coming true. He knew how people used to see him and his family, what they thought of someone who was a Dixon. Now though, he literally was about to be mobbed by people with fire and pitchforks. He had been so sure his brother would get him out, had trusted him, but now it was obvious Merle was in just as much danger as he was.

“Merle,” continued the ringleader, “if you care about this place, this town, as much as you say you do, prove it! You against your brother! Only one lives!”

His brother swaggered over, only Daryl could tell he was nervous. His normal shit-eating grin stayed plastered on his face.

“Y’all know me,” Merle worked the crowd, “knew what I would do for y’all. Let me prove it.”

His brother spun around and punched Daryl in the stomach. It hurt, but the archer knew his brother well enough to know that the punch wasn’t nearly as hard as it could have been. A well-placed kick got him in the gut, causing him to taste his own blood. Daryl got up and shoved his brother, glaring at him all the while. Of course only Merle would have a plan that involved beating the shit out of his younger brother.

“Just play along,” Merle whispered, lunging at him.

Daryl jumped out of the way, not seeing how getting beaten up would help them escape. Right then, smoke went off and gunfire began.  The hunter knew without a doubt it was Rick. The leader hadn’t abandoned his sorry ass, whose brother had caused this whole problem, he had come back for Daryl. The archer wasn’t used to people actually caring about him but he wasn’t about to question it now.

“Come on,” he yelled at Merle, as he ran towards the gunfire.

Daryl could hear his brother’s footsteps right behind him. Finally, he could make out Rick’s face as he dove behind the stacks of wood the group was using as cover.

“This way,” yelled Merle, who kept running.

The rest of them stood up and started sprinting, bullets landing on their heels. They reached a part in the wall, where Merle was kicking one of the loose tin sheets out.

“He ain’t coming with us,” argued Maggie, glaring at Daryl as if he could ever tell his brother anything.

“Gonna do this right now,” shouted Merle over the gunfire, as he managed to kick the sheet out and slip through.

There was nothing else to be done, the group followed suit. They had to kill a few walkers, but soon they were running through the woods, towards the vehicles they had taken to get here. Just as they got close to the van, Glenn came running to see Maggie.

“Hold on Glenn,” called Rick, trying to run interference, “we got a problem here.”

“What is he doing here,” yelled the Asian man, pulling his gun and pointing it at Merle.

Before another word was said, Maggie and the samurai chick, who had reappeared, also had their weapons out and were pointing them at his brother.

“He tried to kill me,” snarled the black woman, who usually didn’t say a word.

Merle was an ass, but he was all Daryl ever had growing up and he wasn’t about to lose him now. The archer shoved his way in front of his brother.

“He helped us get out of there,” argued Daryl, trying to stand up for his brother.

“Get that out of my face,” he snarled at Glenn, before whipping around and glaring at Maggie.

These people had come back for him, but who was to say that the moment they really got to know him, the moment they didn’t need someone to hunt anymore, that they wouldn’t kick him out? Daryl wanted to believe they were good people, hell he even liked being around them. All his life he had been taught him differently though, that it was only him and Merle, even if Merle usually brought more pain than pleasure into his life.

“Haha, looks like you’ve gone native brother,” Merle chuckled behind him, never the one to know when to keep his mouth shut.

“Shut up, you fucking idiot,” yelled Daryl, who was still mad at his brother, “no better than you hanging out with that physco back there!”

“Man, he is a charmer,” Merle said with a smirk, that never led to any good, “been gettin it on with Andrea. Big time baby, unnnhhh.”

As his brother made more lewd gestures and remarks, Daryl couldn’t help but grimace. It was almost like he had forgotten how bad his brother was during their time apart. It didn’t matter though how bad Merle was, how big of a mess he had gotten Daryl into, how bad he wanted to beat sense into him, Daryl just couldn’t let anyone hurt his brother. Merle was all Daryl had for most of his life, the only person until recently who had picked him up even if it was to kick him back down shortly after.

“Snug as a bug,” laughed Merle, just digging his hole deeper, “what you gonna do Sheriff? Hunh?”

“Shut up,” yelled Rick, and Daryl almost felt like taking the man’s side, but old habits die hard and it was so familiar to stand beside Merle and defend him.

“Pathetic,” cracked Merle, “all these guns and no bullets in me. Y’all all talk and no action.”

“Shut up Merle,” Daryl snarled, annoyed that his brother was just making this harder.

He had missed Merle so much, wondered what had happened to him. The hunter needed his brother by his side, but at this rate, convincing Rick and the others of that was a far shot. The way Merle was running his mouth, it was like he wanted to cause more problems.

“Shut up yourself,” screamed his brother, not used to his sibling ever talking back to him, “bunch of pussies, I ought to…..”

His brother never got any farther, Rick hit him over the head with the butt of his pistol. Everyone stared at Merle’s unconscious body on the ground. He looked over at the leader and winced at the look of disappointment in Rick’s eyes.

“It won’t work,” the former sheriff told him, almost sounding sad breaking the bad news to him.

**Beth’s POV**

Beth watched with glee as she saw the familiar vehicles approaching. She made her way down the steps, Judith in her arms. The moment Beth saw Maggie, she ran into her sister’s arms. The girls embraced and fell into a pile. Glenn had to have his wounds looked at, along with the woman, Michonne. Hershel came out to tend to their injuries. That is when Beth noticed something wasn’t right.

“Where is Daryl,” Beth asked, looking at her older sister.

The look on Maggie’s face said it all.

“No, he didn’t,” Beth breathed, “something happened to him….”

“No,” Maggie said firmly, “he is still alive. Thing was, his brother was at Woodbury, his brother is the one who took me and Glenn and tortured us. Daryl wanted his brother to come back with us to the prison, but we wouldn’t let him come. Daryl decided to stay with his brother.”

“He stayed,” Beth repeated in disbelief, feeling hurt.

“Daryl isn’t as bad as I thought,” the brunette said, “he came and helped rescue us. His brother is a piece of crap, but Daryl is obviously loyal to those he cares about. I know I talked crap about him to you and didn’t trust him at first, but I even asked him to come back with us. He didn’t though.”

“That’s okay,” the blonde breathed, trying to take it in, “he will come back, I know he will, I saw it.”  
              Beth was in truth trying to convince herself, she already knew her visions could change, how much she didn’t know. Maggie’s face changed from sorrow to horror in a fraction of a second.

“Don’t say that Beth,” she hissed, covering her sister’s mouth and glancing over at Michonne, “don’t ever say anything about what you saw ever again. It isn’t safe. You can’t let anyone ever know you used the prospect device, do you understand!”

“Why Maggie,” Beth asked, as soon as her sister let her speak again a safe distance away from the others.

“The governor,” the brunette repeated, “I don’t know how but he knows who has used the prospect device, he is searching for them. You can’t let anyone know Beth.”

“I won’t,” the blonde promised her sister.

“Does anyone other than me and daddy know,” her sister questioned urgently.

“Well,” she began, “um, Daryl, kinda knows.”

“Shit,” Maggie cussed, “which means Merle will probably know soon too. While I trust Daryl now, I can’t say the same for his brother.”

**Daryl’s POV**

Daryl groaned as he trekked through the woods with his brother. Rick had made it very clear that Merle would not be going with the group to the prison. The leader’s decision made it feel like Daryl had been betrayed. The archer knew Merle wasn’t no goddamn saint, but he was all Daryl had until about a year ago. He had expected Rick to understand that, but he didn’t, no one ever did. It always came down to him and Merle.

Daryl remembers when he was younger, he had made some friends at school. He had been so happy, playing with the other boys at recess. Until somehow they found out about his father and family life. They turned their backs on him, teased him, and all he had left was Merle. His older brother had laughed and called him an idiot for thinking they would ever accept him. All he ever had was Merle.

For the first time though, people seemed to actually care that he was leaving. Rick, Glenn, even Maggie had all but begged him to stay. Rick had called him a part of their family. It sounded like the best dream he had ever had, which is why he had known it was too good to be true. He had wanted to stay, be around people that seemed to actually think he was better than some high-school dropout redneck, but he had learned his lesson many times before. When Rick got over losing his wife, when the group didn’t need food anymore, they wouldn’t need him. It was easier when in doubt to just do what has always worked, and what he has always done is follow Merle.

However, what used to be so easy was suddenly different. Every word coming out of Merle’s mouth annoyed Daryl, he used to never think twice about it. When he got swarmed by walkers and Merle just stood there laughing, the archer couldn’t help but think about how Rick would have helped him as he managed to get out of the situation by himself.

Then, Merle told him to shoot them something for dinner. Never before had it occurred to the hunter that he was doing all the work while Merle was just running his mouth and taking a piss. At one point he tried to convince his brother that if they headed to the prison, they would have no choice but to take them both in.

“They’re all dead,” Merle laughed, “makes no difference.”

His brother’s words were like a knife in Daryl’s stomach. He had always felt like it was his duty to stand by Merle, but right now he felt like it was just as much his duty to be over there, protecting people, his people. He remembers telling Beth that if something went wrong, he would come for her. If he just goes off with Merle, he will have lied. Something about the thought of lying to the innocent young woman twists his gut.

“How can you be so sure,” he asks.

“It’s the fucking Governor,” Merle tells him, “probably getting ready for a housewarming party. Gonna bury all your fucking pals.”

The idea of Beth’s dead body runs through his mind, and little Ass-kicker, he can’t just leave them. He can’t leave Merle either.

“Besides,” the older brother continues, “even without the shit y’all unleashed on the place, he was coming anyway. Looking for that other Greene girl, not the brunette one unfortunately.”

“What,” Daryl askes, spinning around.

“Oh, you know who I’m talking about,” Merle asks, eyes raising, “that is what the Governor said. He said to find someone named Bethany Greene and bring her to him, alive. Spent the whole last few months searching for her and a couple other people. So far no luck. Do you know her little brother?”

“What the fuck he want her for,” Daryl rasped, feeling desperate at the thought of Beth at the prison, unaware of the danger she was in.

“Ya know that stupid device the rich kids get to use,” Merle began, “tells them the future and such shit. He got the lists of everyone in the area who has taken it. It’s kinda hard though, most of them are dead. The Governor, he is trying to round them up so he can find a cure, he is an outstanding guy that way. When he learned Maggie’s last name, he knew the other bitch couldn’t be far away.”

“Ya know,” his brother continued, his eyes twinkling with an evil gleam, “I would be willing to bet my left ball sack that if we brought this woman to the Governor he would forgive us, both of us. He would welcome us back with open arms, you just got to lead me to her. It is that simple little brother. You know where they are staying, who she is, all of our problems could be solved.”

When Daryl pictured leading Merle to Beth he wanted to puke, his stomach churned and boiled. His older brother had always taught him growing up to only look out for themselves, not to care about the consequences that fell on anyone else. However handing over someone so sweet and pure just to save him and his brother’s sorry hide just wasn’t who he was anymore. He could almost hear her soft singing in his ears, see the bright smile on her face just below those big blue eyes. His hands tightened on his bow. The last thing he was going to allow was for the bubbly blonde to fall into the hands of the Governor.

“Can’t do that,” Daryl told Merle, already feeling a sense of unease clench in his gut at the idea of saying no to his brother.

“It will be easy brother,” continued his sibling, his voice as slick as a newly greased joint, “we can head back to the prison, keep an eye on the place, nab her the moment she is alone. Then you and me will be living like kings!”

“I said no,” barked Daryl, getting defensive.

“What did you say to me,” asked Merle, his complacent demeanor quickly dropping away.

“You heard me,” the archer said, although not as loud as before, glaring into his brother’s eyes.

“I know you didn’t just say no to me Darylina,” began Merle, “is this cuz of your sheriff pal Rick? Hunh? He got you on the path of righteousness? Hunh? Fuckin turned my brother into a pussy is what he did! We were planning on robbing the camp blind before, but obviously with me gone you didn’t have the balls to do it! ”

“Shut up, you don’t know nothin,” shouted Daryl, feeling the need to defend his new family against his old family.

However the older man’s words struck a cord. It was hard to believe he was even the same person who had followed Merle’s every word just a year ago. He could feel shame at the thought of Rick and the others knowing what he and Merle had intended to do.

“You are the one who don’t know nothin brother,” yelled Merle, “what kind of shit are you on? You think they care about you? You think they see more in either of us than a couple of low-life rednecks? They DON’T! They are fuckin usin you!  Know why? Because you are the sweet one, you want to believe that they want you around. Well let me tell you somethin little brother, ain’t no one want’s us around, ain’t no one going to look out for us but us!”

“That ain’t true,” the archer growled, finally fed up with his sibling.

He made up his mind, he was going back to the prison, with or without Merle.

“Hey, where you think you are going,” shouted Merle, grabbing his shoulder.

“Going back,” he muttered, shaking his brother’s hand off.

“Can’t go back there,” Merle argued, “your pal Rick doesn’t want us there!”

“He doesn’t want you there,” Daryl finally snapped, “ya know why? Because you are a simple-minded piece of shit! That’s why!”

That caused Merle to see red and lunge at him, pushing him to the ground. The knife accessory on his brother’s arm tore right through his thin shirt, putting all his scars on display. All the fight in his brother just disappeared.

“I didn’t know he was,” stammered Merle.

“Yeah, he did,” Daryl said bluntly, quickly throwing on his vest, “he did the same to you. That’s why you left first.”

“I had to man,” Merle’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “I would have killed him otherwise.”

Daryl had heard enough, he picked up his backpack and started walking.

“Where you going,” his brother yelled, a slight vulnerability in his voice.

 “Back to where I belong,” he answers.

For once, Merle starts following him instead of the other way around.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took longer to get this chapter out. I wrote it, was dissatisfied and rewrote half of it. The song Beth sings at the end is Praying for Rain by Raelynn. I used Daryl’s POV this chapter to better explain his feelings for Beth, although his own brother may understand them better than the archer does himself. I appreciate everyone reading my story as I continue to write it!

**Beth’s POV**

They were weak without Daryl Dixon. At first, Beth had been pissed at the archer. He had promised her that he would come back for her, for them, in case something happened. She had trusted him. The blonde confided in Daryl about the barn, she believed in him even when her sister thought differently, and maybe she was completely wrong but she felt some sort of connection to him.  Even if for nothing else, Beth thought the rough man would want to come back for the baby, he had really seemed to have taken a shine to her. He was the first one to go look for baby formula, to devise a plan to take care of her, and he would often stop by to check on Beth and the infant. Daryl had come up with the nickname ‘Ass-kicker’ and would sometimes hold the baby girl, staring at her like she was his own. However, now he was gone, choosing the man who had kidnapped and beaten Maggie and Glenn over their little prison family.

Slowly, anger gave way to reason and understanding. If it had been Maggie, Beth would have done the same, she wouldn’t have abandoned her sister to face the apocalypse alone. If Daryl felt the same way she felt about Maggie, there must be some good in Merle. It wasn’t the archer’s job to protect all of them, although he had been fulfilling the role amazingly well. The same way Rick needed time off from being leader after Lori died, Daryl needed time with his brother. Everyone was just going to have to step up and learn to fill the hole he had left until the man came back. He had to come back, Beth wouldn’t let herself believe otherwise. In the meantime, it would take every one of them pitching in to do even a fraction of the work the redneck had done.

On that note, Beth went in search of Carol. She found the older woman and entrusted her with Judith, Carl had finally stepped up in place of his father and given the baby a name, before going outside to kill walkers along the fence. They had been building up and no one had had time to take care of them. Even with Maggie and Glenn back as well as the newcomers, it was hard to get everything done. Someone always had to be on watch, walkers had to be thinned along the fence, runs had to be organized, and Rick’s daughter had to be cared for. Beth had begun doing more. She often cooked breakfast since the baby woke her up early anyway. Until now, Beth’s duties remained behind the safe walls of the prison, which were starting to smoother her. Killing walkers was the one thing Daryl had taught her to do and that she felt like she could handle. It was small, but it was a start.

Every time she drove the knife into one of them, she remembered who had taught her how to kill them properly. Blood splattered out from the brains of one walker and painted her arm in red dots. It was funny how she was starting to get used to it, always being covered in blood or dirt or sweat. The blonde viciously dug her knife into the eye socket of the next walker, as if killing each one made the world a bit more “normal” again. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Rick was wandering around outside the fence, he seemed to be talking to no one. It made her uncomfortable to know that one leader was gone, one was crazy, and her father could barely get around. Speaking of which, she saw her daddy heading towards her on crutches she had found him. It was the first time he had been out since the accident.

“Hello daddy,” Beth greeted, trying to wipe the blood off her face and hands so she wouldn’t look too terrifying.

“What are you doing out here Beth,” he asked.

“Someone has to take care of these things,” the young woman answered, motioning towards the walkers that had been piling up along the fence.

“It would be safer if you were inside,” her father insisted.

“I can handle it,” Beth said firmly, she was tired of being treated like a delicate doll.

“So can the others,” Hershel argued.

“Who,” Beth demanded, “Rick is wondering around, lost in his head, you can’t fight, Maggie is withdrawn, Glenn is on a rampage! That doesn’t leave a lot of people to cover everything that needs to be done! This is something I can do and I want to do it.”

Just as the blonde was finishing her little rant, a gunshot rang out. Both her and her father dropped to the ground. A vehicle suddenly ran through the gate, throwing the metal chain-link barriers out into the field. The vehicle was an ambulance and when the back opened, walkers poured out. As soon as they were out, the ambulance sped back off. Shots rang out, causing more of the undead to pour out of the woods. The area Beth had just thinned was already building up again.

Her father was trying to get up but having trouble and the undead were getting closer. The blonde jumped to her feet and grabbed the metal stake she had been using to clear the fences. Unfortunately, she almost immediately got the weapon stuck in a decaying body, there was no time to pull it out. Instead, she grabbed the gun Daryl had given her and took aim at the nearest walker. She shot it in the neck due to her hands shaking so badly. The next time it was closer and she managed to get it in the head. The corpse tumbled to the ground as the young woman helped her father up.

She could see one of her group’s trucks headed this way. However, more walkers were descending upon them. Now that Hershel was on his feet, he was also shooting. Between the two of them, they managed to keep the walkers at bay, but soon they were going to run out of ammo. Beth pulled the trigger only to hear a resounding hollow click. She looked around but there was nothing she could use to defend herself. The blonde began to back up as a female walker stumbled towards her.

Just as she was about to scream, an arrow appeared in the walker’s head and it tumbled to the ground. She looked up to see Daryl emerging out of the forest, with an older man who had a blade in place of his right hand. The blonde didn’t have long to think on this new development, Glenn pulled the truck in, hitting the remaining walkers. Beth helped her father in the truck and soon they were speeding towards the inner gate. Carol let them in and shortly after, Rick, Merle, and Daryl came through as well.

That is when things truly became chaos. Maggie and Glenn started screaming, Michonne appeared with her katana drawn. Merle began yelling and crudely cussing. That is when Daryl pointed his crossbow at his own brother and ordered him into a cell, where he has been ever since. However, the man’s vicious and taunting comments could be heard all over Cell Block C. Daryl was more on edge than Beth had ever seen him. His fists constantly clenched, he worked his lower lip, and he paced around the jail like a caged panther.

Everyone argued over what to do. Her daddy wanted to leave, go somewhere new. Glenn insisted that they needed to attack before the governor did. Rick wanted to fortify the prison for when the Governor came back. Merle added not so helpful jabs when he felt like everyone’s emotions weren’t out of control enough.

“It’s all your fault, you started this,” yelled Maggie at Daryl’s brother.

“What does it matter whose fault it is,” Beth cut in, talking for the first time since the meeting began, “what is done is done. We have to figure out what to do now.”

Merle’s eyes turned on her and seemed to spark with a weird recognition.

“My my,” he drawled in a way that wasn’t near as attractive as when Daryl did it, “little spitfire here.”

The blonde drew back, remembering what Maggie had said about Merle possibly knowing her secret.

“Don’t you talk to her,” yelled Maggie at the same time Daryl shouted, “keep your fucking mouth shut!”

“This is over,” said Rick, clearing exasperated with the whole debate that was getting nowhere.

“Get back here,” hollered Hershel, in a way that surprised both his daughters, “get back here and fix it, you said this isn’t a democracy, now it up to you to fix it. We know it has been hard on you but you have got to pull it together!”

“Alright,” Rick said after a pause, surprised by the elder man’s audacity “I’m gonna think about it, we will meet again tonight.”

The blonde hurried up the stairs to go check on Judith. As she went, she noticed Daryl following her, but she didn’t acknowledge him. She honestly didn’t know what to say to him without breaking down and sobbing about how happy she was that he had returned, which would be kind of pathetic. Instead, she curtly entered her room and picked up the child.

“Little Ass-kicker, hunh,” came that familiar husky voice as Daryl looked at the name written on box Judith was kept in.

“Her name is Judith now,” Beth informed him, “Carl named him.”

“He’s my brother,” Daryl suddenly blurted out, as if he had to explain.

“I know,” the blonde said gently, keeping her eyes on Judith, “I would have done the same for Maggie.”

“Ya don’t blame me,” he asked, sounding incredulous.

The young woman looked up to find Daryl staring at her in a way that for possibly the first time ever held no trace of suspicion or hardness,  but something more similar (although nowhere near) the way he had looked at her across that kitchen table in the future.

“You are family Daryl,” Beth said, feeling the words flowing up from her soul in a way they sometimes did when she couldn’t help but reach out and comfort those around her, “we are all a family here and if he is your brother then he is family too. I trust you, we all do, you wouldn’t let anyone in here who would hurt us, right?”

Daryl just inclined his head slightly, but the small action was worth a thousand words. Suddenly, as if the magic ran out, Daryl’s attitude abruptly changed.

“Tomorrow, training, first light,” he commanded, his face serious again, “meet me in the yard in the middle of the prison.”

That being said, the archer turned on his heel and walked out before the blonde could get a single word in. Daryl’s quick changes in attitude gave Beth whiplash. The young woman tried to push the strange interaction aside as she put the baby down for the night.

That conversation was how the blonde found herself in the prison yard at sunrise, fidgeting nervously with the gun on her hip. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but the idea of Daryl training her was a bit intimidating. The young woman wasn’t going to complain, she knew she needed to learn to defend herself, but the hunter was so many levels above her she was sure she would probably embarrass herself.

“Ready,” barked Daryl as he strode out of the prison, his hair still mussed from sleep, not that she was distracted by it.  

“Yes,” Beth said, uncertain of what exactly she was supposed to be ready for.

She had expected something like target practice with her gun or maybe an explanation of where to escape if the prison was attacked. What she didn’t expect was for Daryl to come up and grab her wrist and start dragging her.

“Hey, what are you doing,” she exclaimed, her cheeks reddening at being touched by the usually closed off man.

His whole hand reached easily around her wrist, his rough calluses pressed firmly into her soft skin. It was silly, this was the least romantic thing he could have done but somehow her cheeks were heating up.

“What you think I’m doing,” he snarled, his eyes narrowing fiercely, “I’m kidnapping you! Figure out how to get out!”

Of course she couldn’t have expected Daryl Dixon to give her ‘normal’ training, but he was the best in their group so he had to know what he was doing. Beth dug her feet in but she was no match for Daryl’s strength. He easily dragged her several more yards, her feet slipping over the wet grass. She twisted but the motion burned her wrist and caused his hand to constrict tighter, like a python.

“Come on,” he growled, yanking her a bit harder, “gonna have to do better than that.”

His taunt angered Beth and she kicked out at him, which he easily dodged.

“There we go” he encouraged, “come one, give it all you got.”

She pulled her other hand up and dug her nails into his arm. It must have hurt but the tough man didn’t show any sign of pain. Finally, instead of trying to fight against him, Beth went the same direction Daryl was pulling her in and shoved him. It didn’t do much but he stepped back half a foot and quit pulling her.

“Yeah, like that,” he told her, one corner of his lips turning up so slightly it was almost imperceptible “you ain’t about to out muscle almost anyone, got to with them instead of against. Got to use momentum you already have.”

The blonde made a fist and lashed out towards his face. It frustrated her how easily he avoided her comparatively slow movements.

“Don’t fucking do that unless you want to break your hand,” he snorted as he moved out of the way, “hit somewhere soft and don’t have your thumb tucked in.”

With that in mind, the blonde tried hitting towards his stomach, which he also avoided.

“Yeah,” like that, he encouraged, “hit with your whole body though or it won’t do much good.”

Beth was getting beyond frustrated at this point. She raised her fist and threw it at his head, at the last minute switching him and kicking Daryl in the shin. For once, she managed to connect.

“Fuck,” Daryl groaned, causing Beth to immediately stop struggling.

“I’m so sorry Daryl,” she gasped, already regretting her actions, “I didn’t mean to….”

“What you stop for,” the hunter asked menacingly, “ya still aren’t free.”

With that last word, he jerked her to the side and let her go, causing her to fall on the ground into the grass.

“Gonna have to do better than that next time,” he told her, “and don’t fucking ever apologize, even in practice.”

The blonde was picking herself up as he was walking away.

“Tomorrow, same time and place,” he barked, not even waiting for her response as he picked his crossbow up off the ground and continued on.

The young woman made her way back into the prison and got there just in time to feed Judith breakfast. She bounced the baby in her arms as she walked around prison. Most people had already headed out to work on whatever projects or chores they were assigned for the day. That left her alone with Merle. The blonde didn’t know what caused her to go down the steps and to his cell, but she had always been taught by her daddy to not judge others until she got to know them.

As she approached the man, at first he was too focused on working on reattaching the knife to the metal strap on his arm to notice her. She got a good look at him. He had greying hair and slight stubble on his face. A scar ran along the side of his head. The muscles in his arms made Beth think that they must run in the family. Suddenly, his head snapped up and blue eyes met her. They were a more blue-grey than Daryl’s dark blue orbs, but they held the same if not more ferocity.

“Staring at me like some fuckin zoo animal, hunh,” the older man spat out, “ya like what ya see sugar?”

 The blonde ignored his cussing and rude comments, she had learned from Daryl that sometimes being crude was a way to distance himself from others, Merle obviously did the same thing.

“You are Merle, Daryl’s brother,” she asked simply, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Merle Dixon at your service,” he replied with a smug grin, his tone changing faster than lighting “and let me guess, you are Beth Greene?”

Maybe this was a bad idea, Merle was the governor’s former wingman and since he knew her name, he must know the evil man was searching for her. However, at the same time, it was a little late now to change that so talking to him couldn’t hurt.

“Yes,” she replied, staring at him with what she hoped was fearlessness, “and I don’t appreciate how you treated my sister and Glenn.”

 “What you fucking want sweetheart,” laughed Merle, his eyes holding a challenge, “Dixons don’t do apologizes and shit and I’m not sorry. It wasn’t personal or anything, they are still alive.”

Something about his defensive attitude reminded Beth of how Daryl would bark at people the moment he felt someone was questioning his honor or worth. Right then, Judith whined in her arms, drawing both their attention away. The young woman adjusted the infant and tried to talk to her calmly, but the baby wasn’t having it.

“Have you tried swaddling it,” the older brother asked, his voice trying hard to sound nonchalant.

The blonde glanced up at him with wide eyes, surprised that he had any suggestions on how to care for an infant.

“What,” he grunted, “took care of Daryl when he was just in diapers, learned a thing or two.”

“Thank you,” Beth stuttered, trying to recover, “maybe that will help, she has been so fussy lately.”

“You ain’t the mother are you,” Merle questioned, eyeing her up and down in a calculated way.

“No,” whispered Beth, “her mother died. We all try to watch her now. Daryl has really helped a lot, if it weren’t for him, Judith probably wouldn’t be alive.”

“He was always the soft one,” the older brother commented in a matter-of-a-fact way, shaking his head, “fucking Darylina.”

Beth tried not to laugh out loud at the idea of Daryl being viewed as soft in any way, he was about the furthest thing from it. Right then, footsteps rang out and Beth decided it would probably be best to end the conversation and go find a blanket to try and wrap Judith in. Just as she was turning away, Daryl came through the door, covered in sweat and blood and carrying a deer across his back. The blonde almost stopped dead in her tracks. There was something about the sight of the archer looking so powerful and part of nature that set her stomach tingling and had her throat constricting. The blonde immediately made her eyes go to the floor and began walking back up the stairs.

“Good talking to you sugartits,” shouted Merle after her, which was followed by the sound of deer carcass hitting the stone floor and the older brother’s laughter.

The laughter told Beth, who was used to sibling interactions, that the taunt was more meant to rile up Daryl than her, and it had certainly worked.

“Keep your mouth fuckin shut,” snarled Daryl, “if ya know what is good for you. What the shit is wrong with you?”

The brothers continued bickering at Beth made her way up the stairs. Although Merle and Daryl’s relationship was vastly different from her and Shawn’s relationship, it left her missing her brother.

As it turns out swaddling did help Judith feel more comfortable and the baby cried less. Over the next few weeks, Beth was tutored by Daryl in self-defense and Merle occasionally dropped a hint here or there in how to care for Judith. Sometimes the archer took her out to practice shooting, not very often since they couldn’t afford the bullets. Other days he helped her practice kicking and punching. Some days still started off with him pretending to kidnap her. She was slowly getting better at getting away, but she knew if Daryl really wanted to, she would never be able to get free. One time Beth asked to use his crossbow and he all but gave her a look that told her that she would drop dead before ever touching his precious weapon. After that she didn’t ask again.

If Beth got lucky, every once in a while, Daryl would also teach her something that wasn’t a defensive technique, but was useful nonetheless. Yesterday, the group had been moving supplies from one side of the prison to the other to keep it better protected in case of an attack. After Beth had helped load up Glenn’s silver Chevy with boxes of food and ammunition, Daryl had handed her the keys. The blonde stared at him, waiting for him to realize his mistake. When she didn’t move, he glared over at her.

“What you still standin there for,” he snarled.

“Daryl,” Beth began hesitantly, feeling a bit embarrassed, “I never learned how to drive.”

“Oh,” he grunted, his annoyance disappearing, “well today is as good of a day as any I guess.”

The blonde’s eyes almost popped out of her head.

“You are going to teach me to drive,” she asked, her voice bubbling up and she tried to keep from jumping all around.

“Yeah,” Daryl said as he stood up, “don’t fucking hyper-ventilate girl.”

“Okay,” Beth agreed just as excited as before, her companion’s attitude no longer fazing her much anymore.

She climbed up in the truck and Daryl got in the other side, instructing her how to adjust everything to her height before they got to the driving aspect.

 “Alright,” the archer began from the passenger’s seat, “gas is on the right and break is on the left. Got to move this handle to put it in park, drive, neutral, and reverse. Got that?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Beth said distractedly as she put the truck in drive.

Unsure of herself, she gave the truck gas and then immediately stepped on the break because she wasn’t used to operating anything more than the lawn mower.

“Hey,” came Daryl’s voice beside her as he caught himself from sliding forward, “fucking go easy on the break, will ya?”

“Sorry,” Beth apologized, trying to touch the gas and the break more carefully. Slowly, she drove the truck out to the inner gate. Daryl got out and opened the gate and motioned for her to drive through. The young woman very slowly inched the truck out. The archer closed the gate behind her. When he got back in, she continued on at a snail’s pace, feeling comfortable that she wouldn’t mess up if she went slow enough.

“Push on the gas,” snapped Daryl, “hell girl I’m gonna be an old man before we get there!”

“You are making me nervous,” Beth bit back, stressed by the archer’s criticism.

“Sorry, did I hurt your precious little teenage feelings,” Daryl retorted, not sounding sorry in the least.

“You are such a jerk,” Beth gasped exasperated.

“Least I know how to drive,” he huffed, digging in the glove compartment and ignoring her.

The blonde would have said more, but they had reached the inner gate on the opposite side of the prison.

“Bout time,” he muttered as he jumped out to let her through.

Once they arrived at the building where the group was planning to store their valuable supplies, Beth awkwardly put the truck in park. She then got out to help Daryl unload. The blonde tried not to be distracted by the way Daryl’s arms flexed when he was lifting up a box, but she just couldn’t always keep her eyes from glancing his direction. For some reason he never wore shirts with sleeves and honestly Beth couldn’t say she minded. She didn’t want to get caught staring though.

However, as the day went on that got harder to do. It was like the more dirt and sweat Daryl accumulated, the more attractive he became. The blonde felt self-conscious when she admitted to herself she had a crush on the older man. All of her crushes before had been so different, they were on sweet, young boys, not well-muscled, bad-mouthed men like Daryl. However, despite his rough personality and how much he got under her skin, the redneck had a good heart. He had saved Maggie, he had come back, and now he was teaching her life skills.

“He’s attractive,” Beth told herself, “get over it and get a grip, focus on what you are doing. Not like he would be interested in you anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

The blonde carefully arranged the boxes in the room, organizing by what was in them. Food went in one corner, clothes in another, weapons and ammunition in the third, and Judith’s stuff in the fourth. When Beth had everything just how she wanted it, she came outside to find the hunter sitting on the tailgate, one leg up and one dangling over the side, a cigarette between his lips. Her eyes followed his fingers as they plucked the addiction from his lips and blew smoke out. It wasn’t often she saw Daryl relaxed. The blonde walked over and hopped up beside him. His eyes slide over to her and then quickly looked away.

“Ya do a good job with her,” Daryl suddenly muttered, surprising Beth by talking about something other than training or some task to be done.

“Merle helps, he knows a surprising amount about babies,” the blonde tells him, causing him to wince at his brother’s name.

“Merle don’t know shit about babies,” he cussed, his relaxed attitude gone.

“He must,” insisted Beth, “I mean he said he raised you and you turned out pretty good.”

Daryl raised one eyebrow at her from beneath his long hair, as if questioning her sanity if she thought that ending up like him was considered pretty good.

“Really,” Beth insisted, smiling at him to show her sincerity.

When he didn’t comment, Beth felt herself needing to talk.

“Ya know,” she began, “I was always the baby of the family. Maggie used to complain about always having to watch me or help me. Shawn and I got along better, he was closer in age to me. We were always very close. Sometimes, Maggie and I don’t get along very well, we don’t always see eye to eye, but I love her very much. She was always the more rebellious one, would sneak out of the house, date all sorts of guys, get into trouble, but she is my sister and nothing could ever change how I feel about her. And, despite all the taunts and arguments, I know she will be there for me, cuz that is what siblings do.”

Daryl was staring at her as if she was crazy, he finally grunted and hopped off the tailgate, indicating their conversation was over. Beth sighed. Sometimes she got carried away talking about her feelings, even when she knew the archer didn’t appreciate the touchy-feely subjects. For some reason, she just felt comfortable enough around him to want to open up.

**Daryl’s POV**

Beth made no sense and complete sense all at the same time. He was fascinated watching the young woman, he just couldn’t understand where all of her light came from in the midst of this dark world. All he knew was that it was his job to help protect it, the same way it was his job to keep Merle in line or to bring back food for the group. He had just kind of taken the responsibility on. She was getting better, learning much quicker than he had anticipated.

Daryl hated dragging Beth around the courtyard at the prison, hated seeing the bruises on her wrist that reminded him of how his ma always had bruises. However, he hated the idea even more of the Governor getting his hands on Beth. This was the best way to teach her how to escape, should she ever have to face the leader of Woodbury alone. Daryl’s muscles tightened on his crossbow at the thought. They were all in danger, but the young blonde was being specifically targeted and it made his fists clench at how the Governor was going after one of the more innocent members of their group.

He leaned up against the wall next to his brother’s cell. The whole group had just been discussing the best course of action to defend the prison. Rick was on his left, Merle on his right (behind bars but still), and everyone else was gathered around Cell Block C. Suddenly, a beautiful voice began singing. Daryl’s eyes were drawn to where Beth sat, her hair glowing where the setting sun rays hit it through the window.

“I plant my seeds in these dirt roads,” she began quietly, slowly increasing the volume, “I see myself in these corn rows.”

Everyone had stopped talking and was watching.

“I learn about love, I learn about pain,” she continued, keeping time with her hand, “talking to God, praying for rain.”

“So I can stand tall in a storm like a live oak tree,” the blonde sang, “no one in this world is ever gonna get the best of me”

That was the moment Daryl realized what he felt toward Beth. Respect. It wasn’t the same respect that he felt towards Rick, a respect based on his ability to lead and be confident in his decisions. It wasn’t the respect he felt towards Carol, for becoming stronger than the man who had beat her down, for doing what his mother never had the chance to do. It was more akin to awe, amazement that she was able to do so easily what Daryl never could, wear her heart on her sleeve and open up to everyone, even when she might get hurt doing so.

This was the fuckin apocalypse and she still sang and decorated her room and grew close to everyone in their little prison family. The same way Daryl could never fit in with the way the world used to be, Beth couldn’t seem to do anything but stay untouched by the horrors they faced every day. For so long Daryl learned that the only way to protect yourself was to shut yourself off, not let anyone close, but this young woman showed him differently. It amazed him.

“Running down a dream like I’m chasing the rain,” came the blonde’s pretty voice, “finding who I am a little more every day.”

“Yeah I’m just a girl,” sang Beth, “talking to God, praying for rain.”

When she finally stopped, only then was the spell broken. Daryl finally tore his eyes away, only to see Merle staring at him with a look of realization that immediately caused a pit to settle in the archer’s stomach. With a huff, the hunter stood up and walked off towards his room, refusing to look at his brother again.

“Well well,” chuckled Merle quietly to himself after everyone was gone, “and here I was thinking he was gonna turn out fuckin queer as shit.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to get this one out. I tried to write it but the inspiration just wouldn't come until the other night. Hope y'all enjoy!

**Daryl’s POV**

Daryl watched Rick come out of the room he had been negotiating with the Governor in. From the crease in the leader’s brows and the hardness in his eyes, it looked like things had not been settled. Not that the archer had really expected them to be, that would have been too easy.

“Need an answer by noon tomorrow,” yelled the Woodbury dictator, before getting into a vehicle with his men and driving off.

Rick didn’t say a word, he just got into the car with Hershel close behind. Daryl followed them on his motorcycle, enjoying the breeze and the road flashing by under his feet. It was moments like this that he could almost forget the world had gone to shit and that they were on the brink of war with a psycho. It didn’t bother him as much as it bothered the others, he was used to life being crap. The only difference was that for the first time ever, he was worried for someone other than himself. He worried about his brother, Rick, Beth, and all the others in the prison. His thoughts seemed to linger on a certain blonde more than the others in their community, but he told himself that it was only because she needed to be protected more than Merle or Rick. The two men could hold their own when the Governor came knocking on their gates. Beth was learning, surprisingly fast, but still there was so much she didn’t know and the innocent girl was being specifically targeted.

Once they were safe within the prison walls, Rick called a meeting. As everyone gathered around, Daryl noticed his brother was the last to appear. The glares the older brother received from Maggie and Glenn when he did finally join the group told the hunter that something had gone on. Daryl wanted to groan, the last thing he wanted to do after a long day was more damage control on his brother.

“We are going to war,” announced Rick, drawing everyone’s attention and suddenly causing the prison to be so quiet you could hear a walker moan from a couple cell blocks over.

“There is no reasoning with him,” their leader continued, “he is coming to wipe us all out and we have to start preparing.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Sure, it had apparently been more of Andrea’s idea than the Governor’s, but still the man had traveled out of the safety of Woodbury to talk to Rick for almost an hour, he had to have wanted something. For some reason, Rick was leaving out what was said, which meant it was even worse than Daryl had originally thought.

“There will be no running,” Rick finished, “it is too late for that now. Our only option is to fortify the prison and be ready when he comes, because he will be coming for us.”

On that note, the former sheriff exited the cell block, leaving everyone to let the words sink in.

“Ohhh ho,” laughed Merle wickedly, “big surprise, what did I tell y’all, we should have run when we could.”

“If it weren’t for you,” Glenn began, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Want to come over here and say that to my face China man,” snapped the older brother, his one hand clenching and the other raising up the knife attachment as a grin spread across his face.

Just as Daryl was about to step in, suddenly a pale hand was on Merle’s disabled arm, lowering it down.

“That is enough Merle,” Beth said in a quiet but firm way, “we don’t need a repeat of this morning. Can you come help me inventory the weapons room? Rick asked me to, but I don’t always know the difference between the various types of ammo and guns.”

Daryl thought he could hear slight cussing under his brother’s breathe, but watched in surprise as the petite blonde succeeded in coaxing him out of the room.

“What happened this morning,” he questioned, looking over at Glenn and Maggie for answers.

He couldn’t leave his brother alone for one day without him getting into trouble.

“Glenn and Merle got into an argument which led to a fight so Maggie put Merle in a headlock,” Carl answered excitedly, like this was the most exciting part of his whole day, “I thought they were all gonna kill each other when Beth came in and fired a gun yelling at them to stop!”

Daryl wasn’t sure if he was more proud or concerned that Beth had the guts to jump in between his brother and Maggie. Although his head was telling him he probably needed to teach her a little more caution when picking her battles, he found himself smirking just the slightest at the thought of her demanding that her sister release Merle.

“Daryl,” called Rick, “Hershel too.”

The two men followed their leader outside to a lookout point. The archer knew he was about to hear what had really gone on during Rick’s talk with the Governor. The three men stood in silence for a moment, looking out at the fence spotted with moaning walkers.

“He wants Beth,” the former sheriff started.

Daryl tensed when he heard the blonde’s name, a pit settled in his stomach. He had known the Governor was looking for her, but had hoped he didn’t actually know she was at the prison yet.

“Absolutely not,” shouted Hershel, “what in the world does he want Beth for? How does he even know her?”

Absolute terror shone in the father’s eyes as he looked to Rick for answers, but Rick could give him none.

“Cuz she knows the future,” Daryl finally spat out, causing both men to turn towards him.

“You know about this Daryl,” Rick asked.

“Yeah,” he admitted, feeling guilty about not sharing this information sooner, “Randall had a list, Beth was on it. It was of people who used that fancy crystal ball thing to see into the future. Now Merle said the Governor is looking for her because he has a list too and she is on it.”

“Oh no,” moaned Hershel, turning pale, “not my baby! My Bethany!”

“Don’t worry Hershel,” reassured Rick, “we aren’t going to let him have her. That is why there is no other choice than to fight. I didn’t even bother mentioning his offer to the rest of the group, none of us would let the Governor have Beth.”

“We are the only ones that know right,” asked Hershel, his concern abating.

“Yes…,” began Rick but he stopped, “and Merle……..speaking of which, where is your brother Daryl?”

Daryl saw his brother in his mind, how easily he had been talked into going off with Beth alone. The way he had followed the blonde off to some deserted section of the prison. Surely he hadn’t, he wouldn’t, not even Merle would.

The archer turned on his feet and was running back into the prison.

**Beth’s POV**

The blonde neatly wrote a 43 on the paper next to 9mm ammunition. When she used to practice her loopy, elegant handwriting in class out of boredom, she had never really imagined that someday she would use it to keep track of bullets.

“These aren’t the same,” Merle stated, picking up one of the bullets off the table.

“But they all say 9mm,” Beth exclaimed, staring in shock, she had thought she was finally starting to get it down.

“They are 9mm,” Merle explained, “some of these though are jacketed hollow point, others are a full metal jacket. You use the different types depending on your target and what you want to do to it. Use a jacketed hollow point if you are worried about shooting through your target and hitting something, use a full metal jacket if you want the bullet to penetrate deeper into your target.”

“Oh, thanks,” Beth said, trying to absorb the unexpected lesson.

“Look closer,” Merle instructed, “the ones that are hollow point are flatter on the end and have little nicks, causing the metal to expand when it hits the target and have a larger impact.”

The blonde squinted as she leaned her head down towards the table, trying to distinguish the difference. Suddenly, a hand came up behind her head, slamming it into the table and causing her vision to blur before losing consciousness.

**Daryl’s POV**

The archer skidded into the ammo room, only to find it empty and bullets scattered around on the floor. The clipboard Beth used to record their inventory was underneath a chair, the blonde nowhere to be seen. Until Daryl had run into the room, he hadn’t really believed Merle could do this, even after all he had heard about what his brother had done to Maggie and Glenn.

Rick entered soon after and quickly surveyed the scene.

“This is on you,” he turned on Daryl, “you led him here after I told you it couldn’t work! You said you would take responsibility for him, look at what he has done! What am I gonna tell Hershel? And Maggie? Hunh?”

“I’m gonna go get them both back,” the archer argued, “they couldn’t have gotten far.”

“No,” countered Rick, “you have done enough! I’m gonna go look for them!”

“You don’t have any tracking skills,” reasoned Daryl, trying to be logical despite the anxiety that was twisting knots in his stomach, “besides, if anyone can talk Merle out of something, it’s me. It needs to be me who goes. You stay here in case the Governor comes back, they are gonna need you.”

Rick looked torn but finally gave in.

“You bring her back,” he told Daryl, anger seething under his whispered voice “you bring Beth back to her family, don’t make me tell Hershel that he has lost a daughter. Don’t make me tell Maggie that her sister is being held by that man.”

“I won’t,” Daryl told him as firmly as he could, looking his friend in the eyes, “I won’t come back without her.”

Then, he shouldered his crossbow and walked out the cellblock.

**Beth’s POV**

The blonde woke up to a hand shaking her arm. She gasped and sat up, a pain in her head causing her to groan and close her eyes. When she finally opened her eyes, she found that her hands were bound with a wire and Merle was standing over her with a gun in his good hand. They were a short ways outside the fence at the back of the prison. She had heard that was how the newcomers, Tyrese and Sasha, had gotten in, through the torn fence and over the broken walls. This was the first time she had actually seen the area though.

“Hell, you are heavy for such a small thing,” the older brother told her as he flexed his shoulders and raised the gun to point at her head, “good thing you are awake now because I wasn’t planning on carrying you any further.”

“What are you doing Merle,” Beth asked as her eyes searched for anything that she could use to her advantage but it was mostly just grass and little sticks.

“Making a delivery for the Governor sweetheart,” he explained as if it were obvious, “now get your ass off the ground and start walking.”

He motioned with the gun to walk away from the prison. Beth didn’t move an inch.

“Girl, I don’t know what high horse you are on,” Merle began, his lips twisting into a sneer, “but if you somehow think I can’t make you walk you are very, very wrong.”

Finally, the blonde spotted what she needed, a small broken piece of brick on the ground. She put her hands over it, pretending to be stabilizing herself as she got up off the grass. As soon as she did, she swung at Merle with the brick in her hand. Unfortunately, her recent head injury caused her to become light-headed as she stood up and her swing missed by a good foot. The older man laughed and easily hit the inside of her arm, causing her to drop the brick in pain.

“Nice try sugar,” he told her, almost sounding a bit impressed that she was even trying, “now get moving.”

Beth stumbled forward, still a bit dizzy. She felt the end of a gun on her back and wanted to sob but held it in.

“Why,” she asked again, feeling like it was important to know.

“Because the others are too soft,” Merle sneered, “can’t do what needs to be done, Governor will call a truce if we just hand you over, of course, they don’t want to do that.”

“So you are doing it for Daryl,” Beth concluded, since that seemed to be one of Merle’s main motivations in life.

“Ain’t doin it for Darylina,” spat the older man, “in case you haven’t noticed, he has left me behind in the dust. He is all tight with Rick now. Hell, if the sheriff tells him to jump, he would say how high?”

“It’s not like that you know,” Beth told Merle as they hiked, “just because he has new family, that doesn’t mean he forgets old family. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, we can all be family now. We can go back.”

“Ha,” chuckled Merle as he finally began walking beside her, “in case you ain’t noticed blondie, I ain’t exactly accepted, I’m pretty sure that fiery sister of yours would sooner put by head on a stick than call me family.”

A walker stumbled out of the brush, causing a pause to their conversation. Merle easily dispatched it before returning to her side. With an impatient hand gesture, he conveyed he wanted her to start walking again. Something about his manner told Beth that he wanted this to be over with, that he wasn’t as cold-hearted as he tried to appear.

“Daryl wasn’t accepted at first either,” the young woman informed Merle, “at first, he fought with Rick, he slept in a tent far away from the rest of us at night, he was very rude to me, but that changed. People can change.”

“Pfft,” snorted her capturer, “don’t need no ‘people can change’ bullshit! This ain’t a fuckin therapy session, less yakkin, more walkin!”

They walked for a while in silence, but Beth couldn’t leave the subject alone. The blonde had begun to trust Merle since Daryl brought him back. It was irrational, after everything he had done and was still doing, but for some reason the way he looked at Judith or talked about his brother made Beth think differently.

“It’s for Daryl,” Beth guessed, “isn’t it? That is why you are doing this? To keep him safe. You said you raised him as a kid, you are always looking out for him, in your own way.”

“What did I tell you about talking girl,” barked Merle, letting Beth know she had hit a nerve.

“Just for the record,” Beth said quietly, but glaring up at the older Dixon, “Daryl wouldn’t want you to do this. Did you tell him your plan?”

The older man’s silence was answer enough.

“You did a good job raising him,” Beth blurted out, “he is strong and capable and cares about every one of us. He is one of the best people I know! There is no way you could have raised him like that if you didn’t have some good in you! So quit acting like you don’t give a shit!”

“Don’t give a shit,” snarled Merle, making Beth feel like maybe she had stepped a little too far, “think I don’t give a shit?! I’m doing my fuckin best to protect Daryl, to stop the whole group from getting masquerade in a war they can’t win! All I got to do is hand you over! You are gonna be treated like fuckin royalty at Woodbury, the girl that will help find the cure! You won’t have to care for a baby hours on end, you will get fed a full three meals a day, and hell you can have an actual bed instead of some shitty cell cot!”

“I love Judith and that cell is my bedroom,” gasped Beth, “it is my home, I don’t care how much I have to work or how often I am able to eat. I don’t want to go live with a man who hurt Glenn and Maggie and be surrounded by strangers. You obviously didn’t either because you gave all that up too, for Daryl!”

“I didn’t give it up, the Governor turned on me! Ya got yer fuckin priorities messed up blondie,” hissed Merle “if you stay here, you will likely die with the rest of them. The Governor has agreed to quit fighting your little family if you are handed over. Hell, even your bitchy-ass sister could be saved! I don’t know if it will work or not, but it is worth a shot. Whoever at that prison cares about you at all, they will be happy to know you are well protected and fed behind strong walls instead of barely scraping by and being on the verge of death every single day in the middle of a god-damn war! It is a win-win situation sweetheart.”

“Not for me it isn’t,” Beth said firmly, staring up at the older Dixon with as much authority as she could muster.

After a moment, Merle took hold of the end of the wire tying her arms together and gave it a tug, pulling her forward.

“Ain’t your choice,” he stated firmly, before dragging her along with him, taking her closer to the Governor.

**Daryl’s POV**

It took longer than he wanted to find the footsteps leading away from the back of the prison. At first there was just one pair, then a body Beth’s size was laid on the ground, before getting up and then there were two pairs of footprints. The archer’s hands squeezed is crossbow, wishing he could move faster. He couldn’t let the Governor have Beth, it was his fault Merle had her!

“What the fuck are you thinkin Merle,” Daryl cussed as he came across a dead walker, stabbed by what looked like Merle’s hand accessory.

He had just got his brother back, finally had a friend in Rick and people who accepted him, now in a moment it was all falling apart. Knowing Merle, he had somehow twisted around the idea of handing over Beth into something logical, even honorable. His older brother had a way with words, a way of seeing a means to an end and carrying it out. It wasn’t always right, but it is what had helped them survive as kids in the house of an alcoholic, abusive father, so Daryl understood.

Two sides of him were warring with himself. One was the side that would always be loyal to Merle, who understood why his brother did the things he did because Daryl had once been the same way, even if he hoped he wasn’t anymore. This was the side that said Merle was his blood, his family. The other side, a newer side, wanted to shoot Merle in the ass with his crossbow for touching Beth, someone who was not blood, but had opened her arms and accepted him as part of her broken family.

Suddenly, a car alarm pierced the silence of the forest, causing everything to go silent except the heightened moans of every walker within a ten mile radius.

“Fuck,” Daryl cursed, shouldering his crossbow and heading toward the sound.

**Beth’s POV**

“Merle,” Beth screamed, as she tugged the wire that Merle had used to tie her to the porch post. A walker came stumbling closer as the older Dixon remained in the car trying to turn off the alarm of the vehicle he had successfully wired. He couldn’t seem to hear her over the noise, a blaring sound that was drawing the undead out of the forest. The corpse stumbled closer to Beth and she had no choice but to fight it, tied up and weaponless as she was. Remembering what Daryl had taught her, she quit backing up and instead lunged at the walker, kicking at its knee and easily knocking the monster off its feet. She raised up her foot and brought it down on the walker’s head again and again, becoming nauseous when the skull finally gave way and brain’s scattered her sneakers. Already, another was making its way out of the house, its teeth gnashing and bony arms reaching out toward her.

“Merle,” Beth cried as loud as she could between the sobs in her throat and her stomach heaving. It was no use. This time, even Daryl’s lessons couldn’t hold her in place, she began running around the post, trying to get away, only to somehow entangle the walker’s throat in the wire. When she realized this, a sense of elation grew in Beth’s chest. She tugged as hard as she could on her restraints, causing the walker to be pulled back against the post, unable to move as long as she kept a tight pressure. Just as her arms were about to give out, suddenly there was a thunk and walker went still before falling to the ground.

Merle appeared from behind the post and Beth had never been so happy to see him. Quickly, he untied her from the post and they jumped in the car and sped off. The blonde was still breathing heavily, when her companion finally spoke.

“You kept your head back there girl,” Merle told her, “did better than I thought you would do.”

“Well,” Beth admitted, “your brother gave me some lessons, that probably helped.”

“Darylina gave you lessons,” Merle asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow, “looks like it ain’t only Rick that has my brother wrapped around his finger, although your finger is much prettier.”

“It ain’t like that,” Beth said, blushing at the thought.

“He was always the sweet one,” Merle said in a voice that almost sounded proud, before his tone changed and he stared at Beth with a piercing gaze she thought only Daryl possessed “but he ain’t that sweet….not for nothin.”

Before the young woman could find words to argue with, they had pulled to a stop. Several meters away were several jeeps with heavily armed men. The Governor toward over them all from where he stood handing half out of his vehicle.

“Well well Merle,” the Governor said as they got out, “looks like you really are my right-hand man, minus the right hand of course. I can always depend on you to get a job done, maybe you will consider rejoining Woodbury.”

“What a generous offer,” said Merle Dixon, his voice as slippery as a snake’s, “however, I just want you to call a truce. I have what you want, so leave the prison alone and we can both walk away happy.”

“Okay,” the Governor agreed, “I won’t destroy the prison and you can run on back to your brother and that samuri bitch. First, I’m gonna need you to do something though.”

“Name it,” Merle answered with a confidence that impressed Beth, just watching how he handle dangerous situations with almost a carefree manner wasn’t something anyone could do.

“Shoot her,” Philip told Merle, pointing towards Beth.

For just a moment, Merle’s poker face slipped, only to quickly be replaced again by one of relaxed cockiness.

“Well now, Governor,” Merle said in a respectful tone, “what would you want me to shoot her for? Went through all of this trouble bringing blondie to you, thought you needed what was in her pretty little head to help find a cure, to end this?”

“End this,” the Governor laughed, “I don’t want to end this! Why would I give this up? Before the apocalypse, I was nothing! Now look at me! I’m the Governor of Woodbury! So what is it gonna be Merle? It isn’t like I’m gonna let her walk away alive anyhow.”

“Well, one bitch ain’t worth a whole community,” Merle agreed readily, but his whole body was tense, “if this is what it takes, you know I’m the man to get the job done.”

Beth quivered in fear as she stared up at the eyes of the man who wanted her dead. Merle yanked on her cord, repositioning her closer to the Governor and at the same time closer to a building.

“When I say the word, you roll towards that building and you run, you understand me girl,” Merle hissed in her ear so low that none of the other men could hear it.

With expert skill, he undid the wire wrapped around her hands and roughly pulled Beth to her knees. The blonde’s head was running. What was the word? What was Merle going to do? It seemed like time froze as Beth kneeled on the ground, looking up at the men of Woodbury. The blonde looked at the Governor, saw the hatred in his eyes, how much he wanted her dead. Everything was so still, not a single walker moaned.

“Now,” Beth heard Merle hiss and it was suddenly like she was an outsider watching her own body as she fell to the ground and rolled behind the building.

At the same time she was escaping, Merle raised his gun and shot at the men of Woodbury as he followed her behind the wall. The blonde got to her feet and immediately Merle was pushing her into the woods.

“Go,” he yelled, clutching his side where blood was trickling out.

The two sprinted into the forest as bullets peppered the ground and the trees around them. Tree branches whipped Beth’s face, probably leaving scratches, but she didn’t feel any pain. Using agility Beth didn’t even know she had, she jumped over roots and darted around tree trunks, all the while Merle was close on her trail.

“Hold up girl,” Merle called as he finally stopped and leaned over clutching his side, before lowering himself onto the ground.

Beth turned around to see the older Dixon with more blood than she had first thought flowing out of his chest.

“Merle,” she exclaimed, “we have to stop the blood from flowing and then keep moving, they are probably still following us.”

“They are still following us,” Merle stated matter-of-a-factly, “and I ain’t gonna be able to make it any further. You go on.”

“I ain’t leaving you,” Beth said, he had just rescued her after all.

“Ain’t got any other options,” Merle said, pulling Daryl’s gun he had took off of her out and handing it to her, “you get back to the prison, you hear me.”

“No,” disagreed the young woman, “I can’t run away and leave you here, if they find you they will….”

Beth couldn’t finish the thought, no one deserved to be left for the Governor.

“You have to,” Merle disagreed, “we ain’t both getting out of here! And Daryl would kill me anyway if I let anything happen to you! So take the fucking gun and start running your skinny ass back to the prison! Hurry up!”

The blonde hesitantly took the gun, feeling the weight in her hand like a death sentence for the owner.

“Daryl deserves some happiness in his life,” Merle suddenly said, “it’s a shitty ass world, it always has been. I wasn’t always there for him, I wasn’t always the best brother, but we were all each other had. Tell him I tried to do right by him. And keep an eye on him for me will ya blondie, he was always the soft one after all, he is gonna need someone to be there for him when shit hits the fan.”

Suddenly, it was like Merle snapped out of whatever sappy moment he was in.

“What the fuck you still standing there with your mouth gaping open for,” he snapped, “go already, get the fuck out of here!”

Beth paused before leaving to reach down and give Merle a hug.

“Daryl ain’t the only one that is sweet,” she told him, “you are family as much as he is.”

Then, without another word, Beth turned and ran. She ran like she did back in high school when she was on the track team. The blonde concentrated on her breathing and nothing else, tried to find a calm within herself even as she darted around walkers. Before long, she heard shots ring out behind her and tears began flowing from her eyes, making little clean trickles down her dirty cheeks.

Finally, she couldn’t run anymore and Beth collapsed next to a tree sobbing. She tried to keep as quiet as possible to avoid more walkers. That is when it hit her, the sense of deja ve and it was scary. She looked down to find her white tank covered in dirt and blood, her hand raised to find her hair was coming out of her ponytail, just like she had seen it. Almost not breathing, Beth slowly pulled Daryl’s gun out and scanned her surroundings. She had seen in the future that something or someone was coming for her, now she knew it was the Governor. A part of Beth wanted to sprint off into the woods, another, newer part told her to stand her ground because running wouldn’t do any good.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I skipped over some important parts but I figure, everyone who watched the series knows what happened anyway, why rewrite it? I wanted to focus this chapter a little more on Beth and Daryl's "relationship" and less on what is happening to the group as a whole. I wanted to allow them for once to be alone and a little less serious than they usually are.

**Beth’s POV**

Beth held Daryl’s gun up, scanning her surroundings. She was determined to get away, to see her family again. She could feel her heart beating in her chest so hard she was almost surprised she didn’t pass out. That is when the sound finally came, the snap of a twig behind her. Beth whirled around and shot toward the sound, ready to do whatever it took to escape the Governor and his men. However, the following voice stopped her in her tracks.

              “Shit girl, I’ve already been shot by Andrea, I’m ain’t trying to make a habit out of it,” came the archer’s gruff growl.

              “Daryl,” Beth gasped, lowering the gun, feeling relief set in, “Daryl, oh thank God!”

              She couldn’t help it, her body just lunged toward him and the next thing she knew Beth had her arms wrapped around the bad-tempered older man. It was a bit awkward because he hadn’t moved his crossbow and it was poking her in the shoulder. Daryl didn’t move an inch, she might as well have been hugging a statue. When the blonde finally came to her senses, she remembered how much the hunter liked his personal space and immediately stepped back. He continued to stand there as if his brain had shorted out.

              “Daryl,” Beth asked hesitantly, which seemed to snap him out of it.

              “Where’s Merle,” Daryl barked, ignoring the entire scene that had just happened.

              Beth felt dread settle in her stomach, she was going to have to tell Daryl that his brother had died. She didn’t know how to do that, she wasn’t prepared for this. However, he was still standing there, waiting for an answer. Those piercing blue eyes of his demanded that she start talking.

              “He’s gone Daryl,” Beth whispered softly, trying her best to break the news in the gentlest way possible.

              “Gone,” Daryl almost shouted, “gone where? If he thinks I’m gonna chase his sorry ass down again I….”

              “No Daryl,” Beth interrupted, grimacing at the confusion, “he is gone, the other kind of gone. The Governor and his men……Merle stayed behind and held them off so I could get away.”

              “No,” hissed Daryl, his eyes changing from annoyance to something she had never seen in them before, fear, “you’re wrong! Merle is strong! Ain’t nobody able to kill Merle but Merle! He wouldn’t sacrifice himself for someone else, he is a sorry son-of-a-bitch that would save himself! He wouldn’t….”

              “I’m sorry Daryl,” Beth insisted, her vison blurring with tears, “I really am, I know what it is like to lose a brother, I….”

              “Shut the fuck up,” shouted the archer, “you don’t know shit, I’m gonna go find my brother, he is still out there!”

              “No,” argued Beth even as the older man was stomping off in the direction she had just come, “Daryl, it is dangerous, come back.”

              He obviously wasn’t listening, the hunter continued trekking through the woods, his bow raised and looking angry enough to shoot the next thing that came in his path.

              “Daryl,” Beth whisper shouted, “we don’t know if they are gone yet! The Governor and his men could still be there.”

              “I hope they are still there,” he growled, “every last fucking one of them.”

              It was clear that there was no reasoning with her companion, the only thing Beth could do was follow along. It took longer to get back to the last spot Beth had seen Merle, she must have lost track of time as she was running away. Daryl easily followed her tracks back to a spot on the ground covered in blood.

              “No,” the older man muttered under his breath, as he looked around at the empty soil.

              He looked frantic as he began pacing all around the scene. His eyes scanned the empty forest, searching desperately. That is when they both heard it, a moan and uncoordinated walking.

              “No,” repeated Daryl, as he backed away from where some bushes were moving.

              Then, Merle Dixon emerged, covered in blood from multiple gunshots, his mouth hanging open, teeth gnashing. The man’s former blue eyes had a mist over them and he no longer exuded that cocky confidence, it was all gone. Beth put her hand up over her mouth to keep from releasing a sob.

              That was the first time she ever saw Daryl Dixon cry. It seemed like it took forever as the body of Merle shambled towards them. However, he finally got there and made a grab for Daryl. The archer shoved his brother away, his whole face squinted in grief. The walker immediately turned and headed towards his younger brother again. This time, the hunter really was out of it because somehow he ended up on the ground with his dead brother on top of him. Daryl struggled as he tried to keep his former sibling from biting his neck, it was like all of his normal strength had been sucked away.

              The blonde watched in horror as Merle got closer and closer to biting Daryl’s neck as the archer tried to hold off the walker while also attempting to pull his knife out. The blonde didn’t want to risk shooting Daryl, so she grabbed a nearby stick and swung it as hard as she could at Merle’s head, knocking him off his brother. As soon as she did so, Daryl pulled out his knife and stabbed it into the walker’s head, again and again. Beth watched with a dull sense of horror, it was like every emotion she had was drained out of her. Daryl’s shirt became covered in Merle’s blood, making him look more ferocious than normal. Finally, the older man fell back onto the ground sobbing and Beth stood there in shock.

              It seemed like hours, but it could have been minutes before Daryl finally got off the ground. The blonde went over to help steady him but he shook her hand off his arm, glaring at her with an anger that caused her to draw back. Without a word, he started walking and Beth had nothing else to do but follow. They walked in silence, until the prison came within sight. The blonde felt compelled to tell Daryl what his brother had said in his final moments, before they entered through the fences and no longer had any privacy to talk.

              “Merle said that he tried to do right by you,” she started, “he really loved you ya know, I kinda get the feeling he didn’t say it much but….”

              “Don’t fuckin talk about him,” Daryl whirled on her, “don’t you dare! Because of you he is dead! You left him for dead! All this talk about family and that bullshit and you left him there!”

              “Daryl, it wasn’t like that, he told me to…,” Beth tried to explain, but Daryl wasn’t having it.

              “You talk some pretty good shit,” he hollered, no longer trying to keep from drawing walkers to them, “made me actually believe it! But you don’t mean it! The only family I had was Merle and now he is gone thanks to you!”

              On that note, Daryl shot an oncoming walker in the head and then pulled his bolt out of the skull before stomping off towards the prison, which had already spotted them and was opening the gates. Beth should have felt happy to be home, but all she wanted to do was sob.

**Daryl’s POV**

              Even when he started yelling at her, he knew he shouldn’t. However, Daryl had never been raised to do things the right way. It wasn’t really her fault and he knew it. It wasn’t like Beth had dragged Merle out there to the Governor, quite the opposite in fact. Nevertheless, he was angry, he felt his emotions boiling over. He was mad at the Governor, the people of Woodbury, the entire world, he felt like his wrath was boiling over and somehow Beth was the target of it. Not because she deserved it but because she only made matters worse.

              It terrified Daryl how close he had come to losing Beth, how it was his fault because he was the one who was supposed to watch Merle. What was even scarier than losing Beth, was how much losing the blonde affected him, the feeling it gave him in his stomach. It wasn’t like when he was concerned about Rick carrying out some new plan or Glenn being out on a run or Maggie being captured, it was worse. Daryl wasn’t a very emotional guy and right now he couldn’t handle both his brother’s death and the fear that was growing in him of the blonde next to his side. So he did what he did best, pushed people away. If he wasn’t close to them, they couldn’t hurt him. When something happened to them, it wouldn’t hurt him. Right now he couldn’t risk any more pain.

              He left Beth standing behind him and walked straight through the gates. Rick came out to meet him and immediately asked how it went.

              “Brought her back, like I said,” Daryl snapped.

              “Where is Merle,” Rick asked, genuine concern shining out of his eyes but the redneck wasn’t interested in what he saw as pity.

              “He is gone,” Daryl spat, as Glenn and Maggie came around the corner.

              “Daryl, I’m so sorry,” began Glenn, “Man…”

              “No you are fuckin not,” Daryl barked, “this is you and Maggie’s shitty-ass dream come true!”

              “You know its not like that,” Maggie disagreed as Beth came walking up.

              “Don’t tell me what it is like,” Daryl shouted, getting right up in her face before turning around to all of them, “all of y’all, just leave me the fuck alone! I’ve had enough of this crap!”

**Beth’s POV**

              That horrific day seemed like weeks ago. It may have been, it wasn’t like they kept track of the date anymore and recent events had caused time to be a bit of a blur. Since Merle’s death, the Governor had attacked again. This time, they were ready and led Woodbury into a trap. Afterwards, Rick, Daryl, and Michonne had chased the Governor down to finish what had been started. As it turns out, there had been nothing left to finish. The Governor had killed his own remaining soldiers and disappeared into thin air. Once the people of Woodbury found out they had been lied to, Rick offered for them to come to the prison and almost everyone had accepted.

              Things seemed to be returning to normal, even better than normal actually. There was more people to help do the chores, be on watch, and cook food. It was easier with more people and they were beginning to form a sort of community. It made Beth happy to wake up in the morning and know that she didn’t have to single handedly take care of Judith, do the laundry, and cook. She enjoyed talking to the new women and a few girls her age as they made food together or hung wet clothes out to dry. Life was going pretty great, except where Daryl Dixon was concerned.

              The hunter had refused to interact with Beth again since they had entered the prison gates. Occasionally, only when it was required, he might grunt at Beth or pass her something if he couldn’t get away with ignoring her. Obviously, any training sessions had ended. There were many times the blonde wanted to just throw her hands up and forget the stubborn man, but then she would remember Merle’s request to watch after his brother or Daryl’s face when he saw his sibling had turned. So even though it didn’t do any good, Beth made sure to wish Daryl a good morning every time she saw him at breakfast. When he didn’t come to eat, she would take his food to him. If his clothes started getting too dirty looking, she would slip into his room and gather them up for laundry day.

              Honestly, if she were only doing this because of Merle’s request, Beth wouldn’t have gone so far out of her way to try and help the silent hunter. She had decided back at the farm that Daryl wasn’t nearly as mean and gruff as his exterior suggested. The archer had fought hard to keep them all safe against the Governor, he had gone out and brought Beth back, he provided meat for the whole prison, he deserved to be appreciated.

              Not that Beth was the only one that appreciated Daryl. The people from Woodbury originally stayed a healthy distance from the angry looking archer, but they quickly learned too that he had a good heart. The blonde couldn’t help but grin at Daryl’s bewildered face when strangers came up to thank him for their meal or little kids ran around pretending to be an archer just like him. To be honest, Beth probably watched Daryl more than she should, but it wasn’t like she could watch TV or go to the movies anymore. A girl had to find something to entertain herself other than just watch Judith and do chores.

              “Hey, Beth is it,” came a boy’s voice from behind her and the blonde quickly looked away to pretend like she hadn’t been gawking at Daryl’s arms as he raised a deer up into a tree so he could gut it.

              It turned out the person calling her was a boy from Woodbury, followed by several kids.

              “Yes,” asked Beth, unsure of what he wanted from her, “I’m Beth.”

              “I’m Zach,” said the boy with short dirty-blonde hair and warm brown eyes as he held out a hand, “I was told you could show us how to harvest some things from the field. Hope you don’t mind, some of the kids wanted to help.”

              “Nice to meet you Zach,” Beth greeted, shaking his warm hand, “I don’t mind at all, just grab some gloves and follow me.”

              The young woman led the little group behind her out to the makeshift pasture where they were growing a variety of vegetables.

              “Alright,” she instructed, “the lettuce is easiest to pick if you twist it until it breaks off from the plant, if you pull you are going to wear yourself out very quickly. The onions, once picked, peel off some of the extra flaky layers on top and then tie them to this string. We hang them up to keep them from going bad. We currently have no way to preserve a lot of the vegetables, so only harvest enough for what we will need for the next few meals.”

              “Gosh,” complimented Zach, “you sure know a lot, where did you learn all of this?”

              “I grew up on a farm,” Beth explained, feeling her cheeks blushing for some reason, “ya know, before all this.”

              The kids immediately began bounding all around the garden and causing chaos, which her and Zach had to work hard to contain. At some point they were both so covered in dirt that they started laughing.

              “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought them,” Zach apologized, “They are a bit young but I didn’t know they would be this bad.”

              “Don’t worry, they have to learn sometime,” the blonde told him as she tried to get some stray leaves out of her hair.

              “Here, let me help you with that,” the young man said, picking the vegetation out of her ponytail.

              The blonde felt like she should feel something in the moment, her stomach swoop or butterflies, or something. Zach was attractive, her age, they were having a lot of fun. So why didn’t she feel anything? That is when two much darker blue eyes stared back at her in her mind’s eye.

              “Shit,” Beth thought, as she stared at a man who could have been the right one, who would have been if the world hadn’t ended, “I knew I had a crush on Daryl, but am I seriously in that deep? He doesn’t even talk to me? How pathetic am I?”

              “Um,” the blonde cleared her throat stepping back, suddenly feeling guilty for letting Zach get so close even though it wasn’t like there was anything going on between her and Daryl.

              Luckily, the kids interrupted the moment, yelling that they wanted to go get something to eat. Zach grinned sheepishly at her and they herded the young ones down to the kitchen.

**Daryl’s POV**

              The archer grabbed a wrench, but this one didn’t fit the part either.

              “Shit,” he cussed, throwing the tool on the ground where it made a clinking noise.

              He took a deep breath from his cigarette, enjoying the calming effect it had on him. Since Merle’s death, he had been going through his packs a bit quicker. He had also been working on his brother’s old bike more. Whenever he thought about his brother, he just found himself in front of the motorcycle and would begin tuning or adjusting it, making sure it was in perfect condition. Sometimes Carol stopped by to see him, but not today. Most likely because he had snapped at her yesterday and told her to quit ‘playing therapist’ on him.

              The hunter is almost in the closest thing he has ever been to peace. Working on his motorcycle, cigarette in his mouth, and living in a safe place surrounded by people who actually seem to respect him. For a little while, despite Merle being gone and the world going to shit, he is actually content, sitting there on the tarmac, tinkering around with his bike. It is almost as calming as being out in the forest alone with his bow. This surprises Daryl because he has never felt like he particularly fit in anywhere before.

              That is when he hears laughter and all of his peace flies right out of his body. He looks up, planning to glare at whoever is breaking the silence when he spots her. Blonde hair a mess, dirt streaked across her cheek, and hands holding a basket of vegetables. Kids run around her and it would all be a perfect picture to add to his perfect day if it weren’t for some Woodbury boy standing too close to Beth and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The kid is the same one who has been following Daryl around, asking him what he did before the apocalypse. It annoys Daryl, because he hates being reminded that he was a nobody that did nothing before this shitstorm occurred. Of course, he hadn’t bothered to learn the kid’s name despite the young man following him like a puppy dog on runs. Honestly, until this very moment he hadn’t really noticed the kid, but now the young man had his full attention.

              “Who has invoked the wrath of Daryl Dixon,” asked a warm voice as Carol came up behind him.

              Daryl flinched and forced himself to look away from the garden, feeling himself redden from being caught staring.

              “Ain’t mad about shit,” he grunted, tightening a bolt a little harder than necessary.

              “If you say,” his friend quipped, “but if looks could kill whoever you had been looking at would be a walker by now.”

              “What ya want,” the hunter snapped, wanting badly to change the subject.

              “Well, the limited vegetables we grow inside here is getting a bit old,” Carol explained, “Beth offered to go outside the prison and find some wild, edible plants. However, it would be best if she had someone to go with her, to watch her back while she picks things. Rick and Hershel are busy discussing the crops and the livestock and Maggie and Glenn are on watch duty. I’m not sure anyone from Woodbury is capable enough beyond the gates yet. Since you are just messing with your motorcycle, I figured you might have time.”

              “Ain’t just messin with it,” he countered, his whole body becoming taunt.

              “Sure you ain’t pookie,” ignored Carol, who was sometimes more like a mom than a friend, “now can you escort Beth or should I have one of the new Woodbury men do that?”

              Daryl’s teeth clenched at the idea of the one blonde boy taking Beth outside the prison, idiot would probably wind up getting them both killed.

              “Fine,” he mumbled, not trusting himself to look up.

              “Great,” agreed Carol, who was used to the archer and his taciturn ways, “I will tell Beth to get ready and meet you over here.”

              “Right now,” he almost choked out, “I’m still working on my bike.”

              “Well then finish it up,” admonished Carol lightly, “can’t keep a woman waiting.”

**Beth’s POV**

The youngest Greene was unloading the vegetables in the makeshift kitchen as her daddy read from the Bible. Zach and the kids helped. Carol entered and all the kids jumped up and down to say hi.

              “Beth,” Carol began, “we had talked about you going beyond the gates to collect some fruit and vegetables if you can find any. Daryl said he would escort you.”

              The young woman felt her body tingle at the mention that her traveling companion would be none other than Daryl Dixon. She was honestly shocked, he had been avoiding her for weeks now. She wondered what had changed his mind, maybe he figured that it was for the good of the group, gathering food for the bigger community was now top priority even if he didn’t feel like talking to her.

              “I’m glad to hear that,” said Hershel, “I will feel much safer knowing Daryl is watching Beth, there are few people more capable of handling what goes on outside these gates.”

              “You are so lucky Beth,” cuts in Zach, “Daryl is the coolest to go on runs with. I have been trying to figure out what he did before all this, he gives me one guess a day, so far no luck. Do you know him well? Got any hints for me?”

              “Daryl doesn’t talk much about his past,” Beth said, trying to change the subject, “I had better go get changed.”

              The young woman kissed her father on the cheek before going to change into boots and a jean jacket. It was hot, but she needed all the protection from biters she could get whenever she went beyond the gates. When she saw Daryl sitting on the ground next to his bike, putting away his tools she couldn’t help but feel attracted. The archer was covered in sweat, dirt, and blood, but somehow he just made it look good. His biceps bulged as he got up and picked up his crossbow, then his eyes settled on her. She felt trapped for a moment, staring at him. Worried that if she got closer he would get annoyed or leave.

              “Well, ya comin or not,” he finally asked, turning away from her and throwing one leg over his motorcycle.

              Beth’s eyes practically popped out of her head. Sure, she had ridden with him before, but back then it had been chaotic and they were running for their lives and she hadn’t been nearly as attracted to him. Not allowing herself to back down, the blonde walked over to him and sat on the back, but suddenly found herself unsure of where to hold him. Daryl didn’t like her in his personal space, the past few times she had even tried to reach out and touch his shoulder he had all but pushed her away.

              “Better hold on girl if ya don’t want to fall off,” he drawled, his voice sounding slightly deeper than normal.

              The blonde wrapped her arms around the hunter, feeling how strong and muscular he was, right as he stepped on the gas. This time was much better than the last time she had gone on a ride with him, because this time they weren’t escaping a horde of walkers. The wind blew through Beth hair as they coasted down to the gate, which was opened for them by people from Woodbury. Then, Daryl revved the engine and they were flying like nothing could ever touch them again. Beth felt laughter well up in her throat until it finally bubbled out, only to be snatched away by the wind. When they finally stopped, she couldn’t help but be the slightest bit disappointed, even though she knew it couldn’t last forever.

              The blonde got off, feeling wobbly and almost fell over except for Daryl grabbing her by the wrist.

              “Easy there girl,” he warned, his eyes watching her like a hawk.

              In that moment, Beth felt so stupid. Touching Daryl, his voice, the way he looked at her, she had more than just a simple crush. Yet, there was no way he felt the same, heck he didn’t even talk to her half the time. Trying to conceal the easy blush that spread to her cheeks, the young woman yanked her hand away and began looking around.

              “Well, let’s start walking,” Beth suggested, “just see what’s in the area. If we find a lot, we can always come back again with a truck.”

              Her companion just grunted and stared at her, letting her make the first move. Beth had no clue where they were or any certain way to look, so she just started walking wherever a path in the forest wasn’t blocked. It would be easy enough for Daryl to find his way back.

              “So,” Beth asked, after a few minutes of walking, “how did you learn how to track?”

              “Had to,” he grunted, and at first Beth thought that was all he was gonna say, but then he continued, “got lost in the forest by my house, for several days. Ain’t no one to look for me, nothin to eat. Had to learn real quick how to live off what I found, ate some raw worms and other bugs. Accidentally wiped my ass with poison ivy, itched somethin awful. Took me three days to finally correctly follow my tracks back to the shitty trailer I lived in. Walked in, made myself a sandwich, no one even noticed I was missin.”

              “Well, you have people to notice if you go missing now,” Beth told him, “but I don’t think we can do much for you if you mistake poison ivy for toilet paper again.”

              She started chuckling at the thought. Suddenly, a shoulder bumped her own and she looked up into the classic Daryl Dixon glare.

              “Ain’t funny,” he asserted, his seriousness somehow making it more comical.

              “Yes it is,” she managed to get out between giggles.

              Right then, the couple stumbled into an opening in the forest. In the middle stood a tall tree with purple fruits.

              “Daryl,” exclaimed Beth, “do you know what that is? It’s a mulberry tree!”

              “Didn’t even give me a chance to answer Greene,” he grumped, but Beth knew better than to think her companion was actually annoyed.

              “We had one back on the farm,” the blonde explained, “it would drop berries all the time, too many for us to know what to do with. They would litter the backyard and Maggie, Shawn, and I would run around barefoot all the time and the mulberries dyed the bottom of our feet purple. People would think we had some sort of disease or something. The chickens liked to eat the mulberries too, they would end up with purple spots all over them from where berries fell and hit them. It was the funniest thing!”

              “We have got to take some back, they will be a great food and store well and we can use the juice as a dye” Beth insisted, “give me a lift up to the top branch, once I’m up I’m light enough to go pick them from the other branches.”

              “Ya sure about this,” he asked, eying her up and down, obviously doubting her abilities.

              “Daryl,” Beth rolled her eyes as she discarded her boots and socks, “I grew up on a farm, I climbed trees most of my childhood years. I may not have learned how to shoot walkers or read tracks, but if there is one thing I can do it is find my way around a tree.”

              The archer came over and stood in front of her. For a moment it was like time stopped as he put his rough hands on her hips, staring at her like maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling something. Then, the next thing she knew, she was being lift up and the blonde had to quickly grab the branch and haul herself up. Once she was seated with one leg on either side of the branch, she had Daryl throw her a bag up and got to picking. Quickly, the tips of her fingers turned purple. As she gathered, Daryl stood with his crossbow at the ready, eyeing the woods for any potential threats.

              As Beth finished filling up her sack, she couldn’t help but feel a little mischievous. Daryl was just looking too serious down there for her not to. She picked a berry and carefully aimed before letting it launch. It landed right on his neck, leaving a purple little stain. He instantly turned before looking up to glare at her.

              “Hey girl, what you think you are doin,” he asked, squinting as he tried to see her around the sunlight.

              “Name ain’t girl, Mr. Dixon” she told him, tossing another berry.

              Not that she really minded, the way he said girl, the way he drawled it, sounded so good.

              “If you come down here I will show you what…,” Daryl began his half-hearted threat, but was stopped.

              “Catch me,” Beth ordered, as she swung down from the lowest branch.

              He dropped his crossbow just in time to catch her in his arms. The moment Beth landed she realized she hadn’t thought this all the way through. Daryl’s arms felt so strong and warm around her. She had never been this close to the archer before, his brilliant blue eyes were staring down at her with a mixture of surprise and something else. What thrilled her the most was that he didn’t instantly set her down and walk off like he was apt to do when anyone got too close.

              “Beth,” he breathed, her name rattling in his throat as he stared down at her.

              God, she like the way he said her name as well. If she was being honest with herself, she like the way he said just about anything. Suddenly, there was twinkle in his eyes that she wouldn’t normally associate with the stern, stoic archer.

              “I prefer girl,” he breathed in her ear in an extra deep voice, causing her breath to catch, when he suddenly swung her around to set her upright so fast she almost fell over.

              “Come on Greene,” he ordered, already holding his crossbow again, “we are burnin daylight.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been a while since I have written, I apologize. I have been working overtime and on the weekends and it has been driving me crazy because this chapter was just sitting in my head, begging me to write it. Now that I have written it, it has made me feel so satisfied, so I hope y’all enjoy!

**Beth’s POV**

Beth smiled as she remembered Daryl’s face as he held her in his arms and called her by her name, before getting that little mischievous smirk that she hadn’t known was in him. Due to her daydreaming, Beth accidentally tripped over a misplaced shovel and dropped the potatoes she had been carrying in a basket.

“Dang it,” the blonde pouted, as she bent down to pick them up.

They were still good, they had just come out of the ground after all. A little more dirt wouldn’t hurt anybody. The young woman reached out a hand to pick up one of the escaped spuds when suddenly, another person was kneeling next to her, their hand going to the same vegetable.

“Oh, Zach,” exclaimed Beth, “I didn’t see you there. Thank you.”

“No problem,” the young man replied, shooting her a huge grin, “be careful where you are walking, I have told some of the younger ones to pick up their tools, but they don’t listen too well.”

“Yeah, I should have been watching closer,” Beth agreed as the two filled the basket back up.

“Here, let me take that for you,” her companion offered, lifting the hamper off the ground, “just lead the way.”

“That really isn’t necessary,” the young woman tried, but Zach insisted and soon the two were walking back toward the prison, side by side.

Beth couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched and sure enough when she looked up towards the watch tower, there was Daryl Dixon standing there, glaring down at them. His right hand was clutching the strap that held his crossbow on his back and his left rested on the knife on his belt. Even from this distance, the blonde could tell he was tense, every muscle prominently standing out along his arms and his neck.

Beth wanted to groan, just recently she had gotten back on Daryl’s good side and now it was already over. Granted the closed off hunter’s good side consisted of short, terse responses to any question she asked and the occasional scowl but sometimes he would come and visit her and Judith and that anger and the walls he had up would just drop away. Every now and then, he would stop by her room with the odd thing he had picked up on a run and he would just stand by her door, never in her room, just on the edge. He would watch silently as she hung up the item or found a place to set it, all the while rambling on about her day or how the little girl was doing. Then, after a few minutes he would nod his head and mumble something incoherently before disappearing. However, with the way Daryl was looking at her now, Beth was pretty sure she wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon.

The young woman almost felt pissed off at the older man. What in the world had she done that had him so angry? Honestly, sometimes there was just no figuring him out. All Beth had been doing was picking potatoes, she hadn’t even talked to Daryl yet today to have made him angry. The blonde was drawn out of her pondering over the complex hunter by her companion.

“I’m going on a run tomorrow Beth,” Zach informed her while puffing out his chest, “Rick finally said I’m ready.”

“That’s great Zach,” the young woman said while feeling a pain in her own chest.

Zach, who hadn’t even been with their group a whole month, was deemed capable of going on a run, but Beth still wasn’t allowed to leave the prison walls except to pick fruit, which had been deemed relatively safe. Sometimes it was so aggravating, but she had to remember that her role was just as important, even if she would rather be beyond these fences a bit more.

She was jealous of Daryl, the way he came and went whenever he pleased without anyone to tell him it was too dangerous. Beth wished Daryl would have continued training her, but after Merle was gone, he really hadn’t seemed in the mood. However, she was a quick learner and just from watching others when she got the chance, she was starting to pick up on things. Not necessarily fighting skills, since she was usually only able to observe them in the prison, but more basic skills.

For example, the way Daryl unconsciously moved without a sound, the way his feet always seemed to avoid every branch in the grass and every creek on the stairs. After watching him, Beth would rock Judith as she went up and down the stairs, trying to imitate what she saw. Then, with Rick, Beth picked up on the way he exuded confidence even when his decisions couldn’t have a predictable outcome. The young woman scrutinized the way their leader held his body, the way he could bluff without saying a word. Then, when the kids from Woodbury came to Beth asking her if there was going to be enough food for dinner, she used those skills to reassure them, to put their fears away. Lastly, there was Michonne, with her ability to blend into the background and almost disappear when she wanted to. The samurai was fearsome force to contend with, but she could also stand as still as a statue in the face of danger, not letting one thing get to her. The blonde practiced wiping all emotion from her face as she killed walkers, not letting it get to her, not wrinkling her nose in disgust. None of this was going to keep her alive like shooting a gun or learning to punch would, but maybe someday it would come in handy.

“Hey, you know Daryl, don’t you,” asked Zach, the name pulling Beth abruptly out of her line of thought, “He is leading the search party tomorrow and I get another chance to guess what he did before the turn. Do you think you could give me a hint?”

“A hint,” Beth almost choked, realizing how little she actually knew about the archer’s past despite living in close quarters with him for what felt like ages.

“Yeah,” the young man continued, “I am going to guess homicide cop.”

“Ummm,” snorted Beth covering her mouth with her hand, trying not to laugh at the image of Daryl as any kind of cop.

“No, seriously,” Zach protested, “It all makes sense doesn’t it? The way he is able to track, led a group of people, he works with Rick who used to be a sheriff. I can totally picture it.”

“I just don’t think that is quite Daryl,” Beth disagreed, trying not to ruin her companion’s excitement.

“Well, tomorrow I’m gonna prove you wrong,” Zach smirked.

“I wish I could see Daryl’s face when you pop that one on him,” the blonde taunted, “don’t get your hopes up too much.”

“How about we make a bet on it,” Zach offered, a glint in his eyes.

Beth was about to turn it down, but something about this seemed fun and she hadn’t had fun in a long time. A bet was something normal, something she would have done with other people her age if things hadn’t changed. It would feel good to do something normal for a change.

“Alright, you are on,” agreed the blonde, “if I win, you have to change Judith’s diaper for the next month.”

“Oh, big stakes then,” Zach chuckled, but didn’t seem bothered by Beth’s demand.

“And what do you want, if you do happen to win,” asked the blonde as they stepped into the prison and began unloading the potatoes.

“A kiss,” came the reply, which caused Beth to freeze and a blush to spread across her cheeks.

She hadn’t thought of Zach in that way, but now he had said that, it all made sense. They were both the same age, both had a sunny outlook on life, and now that Beth looked, Zach was pretty handsome. Before the apocalypse, Beth probably would have noticed Zach in that way a long time ago.

However, things were different now, she was different now, and there was Daryl…..except that it seemed to be one sided. Beth knew she was attracted to the gruff hunter, but he was a lot older than her and way above her level in so many things. As much as she sometimes got hope when he said her name or helped her with a chore or checked on her and Judith, the fact of the matter was nothing would likely ever happen. Daryl was an amazing walker killer, survivor, and leader. He honestly probably didn’t know how much Beth enjoyed the small attention he gave her, he was just doing his job and making sure everyone was okay. When the archer brought her back items from beyond the prison, it was just who he was, which was a lot nicer than he liked to let people know. The fact of the matter was, Beth could keep fawning over someone who would likely never notice her, or she could try to do what any normal girl in her shoes would do.

“Okay, you have a deal,” Beth found herself saying even as a knot formed in her stomach.

“Really,” exclaimed Zach, his face suddenly lighting up with a huge smile, “great, a deal it is. I will see you tomorrow Beth!”

**Daryl’s POV**

Empty gas cans in case they happened to run across some vehicles to siphon gas out of. Check. Hammers and crowbar in case a place was locked up. Check. Rifle. Check. Water. Check. Everything seemed to be in order. The archer threw his crossbow in the middle of the bench seat of the truck and scanned the prison yard. Other people were getting their stuff together. He already felt irritated, not only had Rick sent him out with a bunch of people from Woodbury, who were not nearly as skilled at scavenging as those in the main group, he was also sending Zach, who was pretty much a novice in going on runs. They shouldn’t have so many people that had so little clue of how to handle themselves out there. At least Glenn and Michonne were coming.

They each chose people to keep an eye on a person and somehow he had ended up with Zach. Not that he minded the kid, the boy was a bit like a puppy, always following him and asking him about things. He wouldn’t have been bothered so much if Zach didn’t always bring up a touchy subject, his past, and constantly hang around Beth.

Speaking of Beth, she showed up walking right alongside Zach. Daryl’s eyes narrowed and he watched the two make their way to his truck. The young man threw his pack into the bed and then was holding Beth’s hand and whispering something to her. The archer tried to tell himself that he was only being protective of his family, they didn’t know the people from Woodbury very well yet and it was his job to keep them safe. Beth was young and naïve and he needed to watch out for her. At least, that is what he told himself. Daryl’s patience ended when Zach suddenly leaned over and left a kiss on Beth’s cheek. Instantly, his feet were carrying him over and he loudly tossed a hammer into the bed of the truck.

“What is this,” he barked, “some damn romance novel? Come on, we got work to do.”

With that, Daryl got in the truck and slammed the door, waiting for Zach to get in so they could get going. The hunter suddenly felt full of energy, he needed to be moving, doing something, anything other than just standing around the prison. In his side mirror he could see Zach reaching for Beth, who stepped away and started walking off.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye,” called Zach.

“Nope,” sassed Beth as she walked by the truck window and giving Daryl a look that made him suddenly feel like he was the one in trouble.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the boy jumped in and Daryl stepped on the gas. Glenn and Michonne were quickly behind him and soon the prison was in the distance.

“Beth is pretty awesome, isn’t she,” asked Zach, with a loopy grin that made Daryl want to slap it right off his face.

“Yeah,” grunted the hunter, gripping the wheel tighter.

“She just like lights up a room, even in the middle of all this darkness,” the young man continued, echoing what Daryl’s own thoughts were.

“What the fuck is this,” snapped the archer, “you think we are having some sleep over and gossiping like women? We are going on a run not sharing emotional sappy crap, so keep your pie hole shut if you don’t have something fucking useful to say. Damn, fuckin newbie.”

“Geez,” sighed Zach, “you are more surly than usual.”

Daryl didn’t respond, preferring to leave them in silence for the rest of the trip. Unfortunately, Zach’s quiet attitude didn’t last. Once they were out and surveying the store they intended to raid, the boy was talking again.

“I think I got it this time,” Zach told him as they waited to see if any walkers showed up inside the store before entering.

“Got what,” asked Michonne, who appeared around the corner of the store.

“I’ve been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn,” Zach explained, causing Daryl to bite the skin around his thumb at the mere mention of his past.

“He’s been trying to guess for like six weeks,” the archer huffed, hoping Michonne would lose interest and go away, he didn’t need more people questioning what he was like before all this.

“I’m pacing myself,” defended the kid, settling down beside him despite the glare Daryl threw his way, “one shot a day. I’m gonna get it eventually.”

God, he must be getting worse at this, because it was like nobody was scared or avoided him anymore.

“All right, shoot,” quipped Daryl, ready to get the next guess over with.

“Well,” began Zach, “the way you are at the prison, you being on the council, being able to track, you are helping people, but you are still kinda….surly.”

The samurai snorted at this description of Daryl.

“Okay, I’m gonna take a big swing here,” Zach continued, leading up to his guess, “homicide cop!”

Instantly Michonne started laughing, which aggravated Daryl.

“What’s so funny,” he asked, although he wasn’t really looking to pick a fight with her, he would have to be an idiot to do that.

“Nothing,” she smirked, “makes perfect sense.”

That being said, the woman walked off with a toss of her long dreads.

“Actually, the man is right,” Daryl called out after her, teasing, but she didn’t even stop walking.

“Really,” asked Zach, looking way more excited than even Daryl expected him to.

“Undercover,” continued the archer, enjoying baiting his companion.

“No way,” exclaimed the young man, who seemed like he had just won the lottery.

“Saw a lot of deep shit,” Daryl continued, he thought he could hear Michonne chuckling even around the corner of the building, “don’t like to talk about it a lot, ya know?”

“I was right,” breathed Zach, amazed.

“You are gullible, that’s for sure,” retorted the hunter, watching as his companion’s face fell.

“Just keep guessing then,” the boy muttered, all the happiness drained out of him, “just really had been hoping that was the one, made a bet with Beth…..”

“What kind of bet did you make,” asked Daryl, suddenly much more interested in their conversation.

“Ah, it was nothing, just ah, ya know, the normal stuff,” the boy averted, his face reddening as he ran his hand through his hair, which told Daryl more than he wanted to know.

Of course, Beth liked Zach. It was obvious, they were the same age, both sweet and naïve, he was just the kind of boy Beth should be dating. Zach was the responsible, kind, well-dressed boy any father would hope his daughter would end up with. The archer didn’t know why the thought bothered him so much. The older man shrugged it off and stood up.

“Let’s do this,” Daryl commanded, causing everyone else to fall in line.

**Beth’s POV**

Beth had taken care of Judith most the day, along with helping prepare dinner and wash laundry. She was exhausted but the group was still not back. Anxiety was growing in her stomach with each minute they were gone. She could tell Maggie was anxious too, checking the horizon every few minutes. The sun finally set and they could no longer see anything.

“It is going to be alright Mags,” Beth encouraged, trying to lift her own spirits as much as her sister’s, “they are going to come back. Daryl and Michonne and Glenn are all super experienced, they are gonna come back.”

“I know,” the brunette said, grasping her sister’s arm.

The two sisters stood there for a little longer, looking out at the darkness before it was time to go to sleep. Neither felt like sleeping, but work was going to come early in the morning whether they slept or not so they needed to at least try. They both showered and headed to their separate cells.

Beth pulled her journal off the desk she had acquired and picked up one of the few precious pencils she had. She hoped journaling would calm her nerves enough to fall asleep.

_Things have changed a lot in the past year, but I am starting to realize that I have also changed a lot. I am not the same girl who loved going to high school, I am not the same girl who cut her wrist when things got bad, but I am not always sure who I am anymore. The old me would like Zach, I probably would have liked Zach a lot. He is sweet and handsome and most importantly still alive. He could make me happy, he makes me happy just talking to him._

_However, he doesn’t make me feel anything in my stomach when we are together. Zach’s voice doesn’t send chills down my spine. His touch doesn’t make me want to lean in for more. I don’t stare into his eyes and get lost in the depth of how blue they are, the way they can tell me so much even when nothing is said….._

Beth’s writing abruptly stopped at the sound of a throat clearing and she looked up to see the very object of her thoughts, and those eyes. The blonde had thought Daryl’s eyes were amazing when she saw them in the prospect device, but nothing compared to what they were like in real life. Right now though, what was in them wasn’t mischievous or questioning or even angry, they were sad and something else, maybe guilty.

“Hey,” she whispered, as if scared that her voice would send him away.

“Hi,” he replied awkwardly, his voice rough and raspy as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

Beth could tell he was struggling to say something to her as he stood in the doorway of her room.

“What is it,” she asked, but she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Zach,” answered Daryl, hanging his head further, as if expecting her to get angry at him.

The archer’s behavior could only mean one thing, he wasn’t one to make a big deal out of a minor scrap or close call.

“Is he dead,” she asked, saving the hunter from trying to get words out that obviously were not coming.

It only took one look, Daryl conveyed everything with just those eyes. The sadness, regret, guilt, and most importantly the pain. Beth felt that this moment was important, that she had to carefully react. She could tell how hard Daryl was taking Zach’s death, how he surely felt responsible because he was the leader, if she freaked out that would only further his own self-anger.

“Okay,” she managed to get out, wanting to be strong for the one person who never seemed to need anyone’s help.

The blonde sat up, looking around her room. It was funny, in a sad way, how she had just been thinking about how she should feel something for Zach, now it didn’t matter because he was gone. She was sad, Beth had really liked him, he was someone to share the chores with and joke around with when things were too serious. She had really wanted to be friends with him. She wanted him to live and find love in his life and continue to be a part of their prison family.

For some reason, her gaze landed on her little sign that showed how many days they had gone without an accident. Suddenly, Beth felt the need to do something, she couldn’t just sit on her bed. She got up and walked over to the sign, changing the days from 30 to 0. It was small, but it felt like in some way she was honoring Zach’s death, since it wasn’t like they would have his body to bury. This was one small way to show that he was gone and he had meant something.

When she looked back up, Daryl was looking at her with something like concern in his eyes. She was honestly surprised he hadn’t left, the archer wasn’t one to be comfortable around anything vaguely emotional and despite Beth trying to hide it, she was often an open book.

“What,” she asked, as he didn’t make any move to leave.

He shook his head and did a slight shrug of his shoulders, but still stood by her doorway. His piercing blue eyes scanned her, not in a creepy way but in a concerned way. That is when it hit Beth. Daryl was still standing there because he was worried about her, about the way she would react. He didn’t like emotional moments but he had obviously chosen to be the one to break the news to her and was now staying to make sure she was okay. He looked like he had been through hell and was very much out of his element, but he wasn’t going to leave unless he knew she could handle what he had just told her.

“I don’t cry anymore Daryl,” Beth lied, trying to reassure him.

She didn’t want the archer to think she was weak, that she would run away and try to off herself as soon as he left. The hunter had enough to worry about without being concerned about her too. She hadn’t even been the one to see Zach die, Daryl may look calm but he had to be feeling something.

When she looked at him again, he hadn’t moved an inch, he was looking like he didn’t believe her, like he needed to still stand guard over her.

“I’m just glad I got to know him, ya know,” Beth continued, trying her best to show him that she was alright as she walked a bit closer to him.

“Me too,” the older man whispered huskily, sounding like he hadn’t slept in years.

When things got rough, Beth always did what came most naturally to her. She looked to help others. It was something her daddy had taught her and it was important. When she focused on someone else’s problems, it helped her put things in perspective and find the motivation to keep from dwelling on her own hardships. That is why when Beth took in Daryl standing in doorway, she noticed that his voice was rougher than usual, his eyes were red, and the frown lines around his mouth were deeper than normal. He may not have been leaving because he wanted to make sure she was okay, but something told Beth that the archer’s presence may also have something to do with not wanting to be alone after the day he had.

“Are you okay,” she asked, really taking Daryl’s haggard appearance in.

“Just tired of losing people is all,” the older man admitted, his honesty surprising the blonde.

Beth had half expected the hunter to snarl and say that nothing ever bothered him, but seeing him right now, she would never believe again that he didn’t give a crap about them. No matter how much he groaned and made snarky comments and tried to stand on the outside of the group, Daryl truly cared. Beth could tell by how dejected he looked, by how he was taking Zach’s death so personally.

The blonde knew she shouldn’t, that Daryl always liked his personal space, but something in his eyes told her he needed more than maybe even he knew. Before the young woman could lose her confidence, she stepped right up to the hunter and slipped her arms around his waist. Carefully, she laid her head on his shoulder and was surprised to find that he hadn’t immediately tensed up. Sure, he wasn’t hugging her back, but the fact that the archer was even allowing her to hug him meant a lot by his standards.

“I’m glad I didn’t say goodbye,” she told him, getting comfort from him as much as she was giving it, “I hate goodbyes.”

The blonde was surprised when a rough hand suddenly touched her elbow, not only was Daryl not pushing her away, he was actually reciprocating, no matter how slight the gesture was.

“Me too,” the older man agreed, his voice rumbling in his chest and his breath causing the loose strands of her hair to flutter.

After a moment, the blonde pulled away, not wanting to push Daryl too far in one night. Something about the way he was looking at her though, it was different than any other time. It was like he had just been told some secret about life or the cure to the apocalypse. Then, that look was quickly replaced by fear and he turned on his heel and left.

**Daryl’s POV**

He had meant to come here to comfort Beth, to make sure she was okay. It was the least he could do after letting what would have been her boyfriend die on his watch. However, like the piece of shit he was, he couldn’t even console someone correctly. It had started off bad with him not even being able to get the words out no matter how hard he had tried and had ended with Beth actually trying to make him feel better. He was a piece of crap, couldn’t keep people alive and he couldn’t make things better when others were hurt.

For a moment though, all that self-hate and self-guilt had just disappeared when Beth wrapped her arms around him. She hadn’t seemed to blame him for Zach’s death, she hadn’t cried or screamed at him. For some inexplicable reason, she had seemed to feel better just having his sorry ass there. He didn’t deserve to be hugged after he had screwed up so badly, after he had failed to bring everyone back, but he would have lied if he had said it hadn’t felt good.

His mind remembered the moment vividly. The way the young blonde seemed to fit just perfectly against him as she tightened her hold on his waist. Her hair had tickled his nose and he had been able to smell her shampoo, since unlike him Beth actually showered on a regular basis. Then, without realizing it, his arm had lifted up, touching her elbow. For once craving physical contact with another human being. That is when it had hit him, was still hitting him, that he liked holding Beth Greene in his arms. He liked having Beth near him, liked touching her, liked touching her maybe too much.

That is when all the self-loathing had come back like a fucking freight train. Because of course his sorry ass couldn’t get a hug from a sweet innocent girl without him getting inappropriate ideas about it. Beth was Beth, she was Hershel’s daughter, Maggie’s sister, the sweetheart of their little prison group. And Daryl was a fucking redneck piece of shit who had just gotten this girl’s potential boyfriend killed and was way way too old and coarse to even be thinking about someone as young and as pretty as Beth.

When the blonde finally released him, Daryl had been free to escape to his own cell. However, it didn’t seem to matter where he went or how far away she was, it was like she suddenly had some hold on him even though he was no longer in her arms. And that scared the ever-living shit out of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of y'all mentioned y'all like a jealous Daryl, I do too. Also, I think Daryl needed a very large push to realize his feelings, even if he doesn't know what to do with them yet.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's Day! For this chapter, I decided to skip a bit ahead to when the prison is attacked by the Governor. Since Daryl realized that he feels something for Beth, in typical Daryl fashion he has avoided her as much as possible since, only now to end up stuck with her alone in the woods. Also, I plan to bring back more glimpses of future soon. Enjoy the chapter!

**Daryl’s POV**

The worst had happened. Daryl was used to the worst, had even come to expect it, but for some reason he hadn’t expected this. The image of Hershel’s head rolling down into the grass would haunt him forever, he couldn’t image what it would do to the farmer’s two daughters. He didn’t have much time to think after that, just move. He shot arrow after arrow, fired rounds from his gun, hid behind cover, and ducked and ran to the next spot. The only thought in his mind was to keep the others safe until they got away. Somewhere in the corner of his eye, he saw the bus being piled into, saw Beth get on it. He breathed a sigh of relief, right when a freakin tank busted through their fence. Who the hell had a tank in the apocalypse?

The boom of the canon made his ears ring, but it was almost pleasant after all the clamor that had been assaulting him before, it allowed him to focus better. He raised up his crossbow and shot a man coming towards him, right as he sensed movement at his back. Even with his catlike reflexes, it was close, but he managed to drive his knife into the walker’s head as the beast tried to sneak up on him. He then used the body as a shield to get closer to the enemies entering the prison, his prison. He saw red as he unclipped the pin to the grenade and tossed it towards the oncoming strangers. They fell to the ground and the blast knocked him off his feet. Irritated, he shoved the dead walker off him and headed straight for the tank, wanting nothing more than to obliterate the people who had destroyed his home, the first home he had ever had.

Unclipping the second grenade, he tossed it down the barrel of the tank, watching with almost sick amusement as the driver managed to crawl out before the machinery went up into flames. The man slowly made his way to his feet, still too dazed to notice the archer, who inched closer with his crossbow at the ready. He could have fired, already taken care of the man, but he wanted him to look, to know who was killing him. After everything these people had done to him and the rest of the group, it was the least they could do is look him in the eyes as he killed them. When the man finally turned, he pulled the trigger, watching as the light left the man and the body tumbled to the pavement.

He pulled the bolt out and glanced around. To his satisfaction, it looked like most of his people had escaped, but that didn’t make him any less angry. These people, the Governor’s people, he would make them pay for what they had done. He would track down every last one of those bastards. First though, he planned on waiting for the fucker he had just killed to come back to life, so he could have the satisfaction of killing him a second time. That is when a voice caused his blood to run cold.

“Daryl,” shouted Beth, her voice strained in a way that caused him pain to hear, as she ran out from the prison, clutching the semi-automatic he had handed her before the fight began.

“Thought you were on the bus girl,” he intoned, feeling his stomach drop at the idea of her not being a million miles away from this shithole.

“Have you seen Maggie,” the blonde gasped, her eyes searching desperately, her chest heaving, “where did Maggie go? And the kids, I came back for the kids and I can’t find them!”

Of course, because only Beth Greene would be able to be worried about other people, even other people’s kids, after just seeing her own father beheaded. She was running around, putting herself in all sorts of danger, because of her need to help people. It was his own fault that she wasn’t more prepared for this, didn’t know how to fight them, he had quit teaching her and now is when she needed those skills the most. All of Daryl’s plans went up in smoke. His dreams of hunting down every one of those fuckers, of putting a bolt through each of their twisted skulls. This was more important.

“We gotta go Beth,” he told her, hoping she wouldn’t fight him.

They couldn’t stay here, the prison had fallen, walkers were flooding in. Beth, as good of a job she was doing, wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer, Daryl knew from when he lost Merle.

 “We gotta go,” he repeated, touching her arm lightly for emphasis, which seemed to snap the young woman out of her mission.

Carefully, he started towards the woods, praying she would follow because he didn’t think he could make her if she didn’t want to, not with everything else going on. He would need both hands if they came across a threat, couldn’t drag her by her wrist if she really refused. Thankfully, soft footsteps fell in behind him, which quickly turned louder as they started running. He could hear her breathe coming out in puffs as he did what he did best, disappear into the forest.

**Beth’s POV**

Everything felt so close and so far away at the same time. It was all she could do to focus on the angel wings in front of her, when she realized she had seen this before, she had known this would happen. She just hadn’t know that it would be this bad, how her whole world would fall apart for this moment to happen. She could still hear her daddy in her head, saying how they could make the prison into a home. She could see Judith in her hands as she walked up and down the stairs of their cell block. Those stairs were gone thanks to the tank that had crashed through all their barriers and shot up their home.

She tossed aside the semi-automatic, it was becoming too heavy for her to carry the weapon and keep up with Daryl. Besides, she still had the small pistol the archer had given her, it would have to do. Right then, a walker crashed through the brush, causing Daryl to come to a screeching halt as he shot it in the head, but the first was quickly followed by a second. Beth raised her pistol and she didn’t know how she managed with how much her hand was shaking, but she somehow shot it square in the head. The hunter turned and looked at her, before nodding in affirmation. Then, they were running again, only to be stopped when a shambling corpse crossed their path.

Finally, one of the times a walker came bursting out of the undergrowth, all Beth heard was a hollow click when she pulled the trigger. Damn. Before she could think of what to do, an arrow flew straight and true and the corpse tumbled to the ground. Daryl turned and kicked the next walker coming towards them. Beth used the moment to pull the bolt out of the decomposed head and then they were moving again.

Slowly, they ran into less and less walkers, heard less and less noise. Eventually, Beth couldn’t even see the smoke that was the ruin of her old home. The safe place as her daddy had called it. It wasn’t safe anymore. Her legs burned, but she didn’t want to stop running, if she did she feared she might not have the strength to keep going after that. Her lungs felt like they were on fire, but it was better to feel the pain than even begin to think about the past few hours. They kept going. She could tell Daryl was getting tired, they were both getting tired, but neither one wanted to stop. They took turns glancing behind them, as if expecting the Governor to be chasing them, expecting to be hunted down. The blonde’s legs trembled, a shiver running throughout her calves and thighs, but she didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop. She had to get as far away as she could.

For most of their escape, Daryl had been in front of her, following her. Now he began to tire, anyone would lugging a huge crossbow after already having already been in battle. However, Beth couldn’t seem to slow down and she slowly overtook him until she was a few steps ahead. He didn’t tell her to stop, didn’t direct her, he just followed as she blindly crashed through the woods. No clue where she was going, just knowing she had to get as far away as possible. The hunter was like a hound dog, following her every step, not letting her get too far ahead.

Then, as they were crossing an open section in the middle of the woods, Beth’s legs finally gave out and she tumbled to the ground, Daryl following her. The both laid there, looking up at the sun, their ragged breathing the only sound in the silent air. After what felt like minutes, but could have been hours, Beth turned her head to find the archer already staring at her. In his eyes, she saw a reflection of herself, of how small and tired and frightened she looked.

In that instant, Beth hated herself, how weak she was, how she couldn’t stop what had just happened. Oddly enough, Daryl’s eyes were radiating the same feelings. They just stared, blinking occasionally as their breathing slowly returned to a normal rate. Beth could have stayed like that forever, if it were just her, she would have never gotten up again. However, Daryl had different plans. He was sitting up, grass and leaves covering the back of his vest now.

“Come on,” he choked out, his voice sounding more gravelly than Beth had ever heard it.

She just looked up at him as she continued laying in the grass. The blonde felt so tired, not just physically, but tired of caring, of trying, of hoping. When she made no move to follow him, Daryl’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Git yer fuckin ass up,” he snarled, leaning down over her, his piercing blue eyes suddenly becoming ice that seemed to penetrate her very soul.

As if on autopilot, Beth sat up, looking around at the shrubs of the little area they had ended up in. Then, she turned back to Daryl, who was standing there expectantly. Apparently, she wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking, because the older man suddenly reached over and grabbed her wrist with a callused hand, all but hauling her to her feet. A part of Beth wanted to fight back, to object to being manhandled, but most of her just didn’t care.

A noise brought Beth sharply into reality. It was the sound of Daryl’s belt snapping out of place as he undid the knife she had so often seen him wearing.

“Ere,” he shoved the weapon at her.

The blonde took it and stood there unsure of what he wanted.

“Put it on,” he growled, he voice becoming menacing, as if daring her to disobey.

Jerkily, her hands moved to her own belt, attaching the hunting knife, which seemed almost comically big on her hip.

Without another word, Daryl stomped off into the woods, leaving Beth with no choice but to follow. Usually the archer was as silent as panther, moving without a sound, but today it seemed like he was cracking every branch there was, enjoying when a walker stumbled out of the forest that he could brutally kill. Beth watched him without helping, because something told her he was doing this for himself. As the sun began to set, they made camp. Soon, they had a little fire going and had both plopped down on either side of it, staring at the flickering flames. Beth didn’t mention her empty stomach or aching legs, such things seemed trivial after what had happened that day.

Then, her mind leapt to Maggie, her sister, her only family left in this entire world. Her sister was tough, her sister could take care of herself, she had to still be out there. If Beth had made it, Maggie had made it too. Beth was willing to bet her life that Maggie had made it out alive. Her father always said they needed hope, this was the one thing Beth dared hope for. There would be no more prison, no more farming, maybe even no more Judith, but Maggie was out there, Beth just had to find her, she needed to find her.

“We should do something,” Beth said, her voice cracking hoarsely, sounding like somebody else’s.

Daryl sat on the other side of her, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. He didn’t even look her way when she spoke, didn’t even acknowledge her idea with a grumble or a grunt.

“We aren’t the only survivors,” she continued, finally causing the man to look up at her.

All she saw in his eyes was disbelief, as if she was spouting nonsense.

“We can’t be,” she argued with him, despite the fact that he hadn’t said anything.

“Rick, Michonne, they could be out here,” she reasoned, thinking of the stronger people in their group, people Daryl would want to find, “Maggie and Glenn could have made it out of A block.”

The archer cast his eyes down, as if he didn’t want to break the news to her, as if he knew something she didn’t.

“They could’ve,” she insisted, needing him to feel what she felt, acknowledge that there was hope.

Instead, his eyes just moved back to the fire, blocking out her words. Beth could feel what she could only describe as a panic attack coming on. She didn’t know why, but it was important that Daryl believe her, that he get onboard with this plan, not only because she didn’t stand a chance of succeeding without him, but she needed so bad to hear that there was a chance. She wanted him to believe there was a chance, to have any emotion on his face actually.

“You are a tracker,” she continued, wanting nothing more than to start moving again despite how tired she was, “you can track, come on!”

“When the sun is up,” she told him, her mind already running through how each day counted, how each day lost would only make it less likely that they would ever find them again, “if we head out, we can…..”

Her voice trailed off as she sensed he wasn’t hearing what she was saying. There was a lot of times Beth had felt distant from Daryl, ever since she had hugged him, he had avoided her like the plague. However, right now, in this moment, she had never felt farther despite him sitting a few feet away. Something in her just snapped, she couldn’t sit there like him, couldn’t stare into the fire without moving. It was killing her not knowing where her only family was.

“Fine,” she spat out, hoping to get a reaction, but she was disappointed, “if you won’t track, I will!”

This was nonsense, she didn’t know how to track, but right now her brain wasn’t really on the logical side. When Daryl still didn’t look at her, she felt more alone than ever. It was enough that she had lost her father, the prison, everyone she cared about, but to lose Daryl too? Not that he was lost physically, but mentally he was checked out. He was so withdrawn and Beth couldn’t stand seeing him like this any longer.

Letting out a huff in frustration, she stood up and began walking. Where she didn’t know, all she knew is she wasn’t going to sit there all night staring at the fucking fire in silence. It was going to drive her crazy and she was already pretty damn close to that. As her steps took her further, she began slowing, not actually wanting to leave her only companion behind but not feeling like she could stay. That is when the light behind her darkened and she heard a crossbow being picked up. He didn’t say a word, just followed her as the moon lit the path she chose at random.

**Daryl’s POV**

Something was wrong with the fucking world to have stuck him with Beth Greene. What the girl needed was her father, her sister, instead she had him. He could tell she was emotional, but he didn’t know what to do with people on the best day, much less right now. The archer could feel the waves of self-guilt and anger and shame flowing over him as he thought about the prison, how he let the Governor destroy everything that mattered to him and his little group. However, he had to shut that shit down because it wasn’t just him, he had Beth. And the girl needed him to be strong, to hunt for them, to track, to lead the way. He could do all that, he just couldn’t deal with all the emotional bullshit. Unfortunately, he had a feeling she was needing someone to do that just as much as she needed a meal.

His eyes watched as she walked in front of him, almost tripping over a tree root, but the woman kept going like she had some magical force drawing her forward. They had walked all night and when the sun kept up, they had just continued onward. He knew what she was looking for, he also didn’t trust himself to hope they would find the others. The hunter had already learned his lesson on hoping, on thinking that good things could happen. Hell, his life wasn’t good before the turn, why did he expect it to be now?

Suddenly, his eyes caught just the slightest indention in the soil, under the leaves. He bent down, brushing the foliage away to reveal footprints. Immediately, Beth was hovering over him, her presence like a 400 degree oven.

“Could be Luke’s or Molly’s,” the blonde guessed, despite having no training in tracking.

Her guess honestly wasn’t completely off, but he didn’t feel like admitting that.

“It means they are still alive,” she said, sounding confident.

He hated that, her hope, her confidence. It was infectious and he sure as hell didn’t want that shit infecting him, not after what had just happened.

“No,” he disagreed, “means they were alive four or five hours ago.”

The angry and disappointed look the blonde gave him made him want to disappear but something in him was looking for a fight and he stared right back.

“They are alive,” she hissed back, putting every bit of threat into her voice, daring him to try and tell her differently.

He didn’t know where her confidence came from, why she had it, but it hurt that he most likely was going to see it shrivel up and die. When they didn’t find the others, or worse found them after they had turned, he was going to have to watch her change the way he did when he was just a kid and realized he would never have a happy life, never have a normal father. That light that surrounded Beth, it couldn’t last. Something so bright and so good, it was like a big target sign for this dark world to close in on.

**Beth’s POV**

The blonde followed the steps she saw in the soil. She didn’t need to be a master tracker to see which way the people had gone, it was pretty obvious. Behind her, Daryl’s dark, intimidating presence loomed. Despite his lack of belief in her assertion that the others had gotten out, he still followed her.

“Picked up the pace here,” he commented, squinting down some of the tracks Beth just passed.

She didn’t know how he knew, but she was glad he was finally getting onboard. That he was finally doing something other than spacing out and putting walls up.

“Things went bad,” he continued, as if he was preparing them for what was up ahead.

“Wouldn’t kill you to have a little faith,” Beth quipped, his attitude pissing her off.

The blonde didn’t need any more reasons to be sad, to hate the world, to want to die. She had seen her father, mother, and brother die, both her homes destroyed and overrun, and now she was without her sister. The only thing she had left was the hope of seeing some of her family again and Daryl kept trying to put that hope out. It was making her blood boil the way he was acting.

“Yeah, faith,” he drawled, “faith ain’t done shit for us.”

The blonde felt her heart plunge. She remembered feeling that way, back at the house, right before she tried to kill herself. She felt like there was no hope, no reason to go on living. She had promised herself not to feel like that again, that she was going to be stronger than whatever this world threw at her. The blonde wasn’t about to give up now, but her companion sure as hell wasn’t helping with that. Her eyes caught a bush with berries, which she began reaching for but stopped when Daryl continued.

“Sure as hell didn’t do nothin for your father,” the hunter muttered, almost like an afterthought.

She spun around, really looking at Daryl for the first time possibly all day. What she saw there broke her heart. He was like her, he was human, and he was hurting. His eyes looked like he wanted to apologize for what he said, but his lips drew a tight line across his mouth as if to keep the words from tumbling out. The archer’s eyes watched her, as if waiting for her to break, to yell at him, to get mad. Suddenly, she knew he was trying to get a rise out of her. She didn’t know why, but she knew. Instead of doing what he wanted, she turned back around to the bush and began plucking berries, determined to ignore the surly man.

“They will be hungry when we find them,” she told him, as if there conversation hadn’t just happened.

The young woman was so focused on her task, she didn’t hear Daryl come up behind her. Suddenly, she felt a soft pressure on her arm and turned ever so slightly to find him offering one of his bandanas to her. His eyes and his gesture spoke an apology he would never say and for right now that was going to have to be enough. The blonde took the bandana and began loading it with the wild fruit. He stood behind her as she finished the task, keeping watch for danger so she didn’t have to. Suddenly, he raised his crossbow up and began moving. Beth noticed the change and followed him without a word. If something had but her companion on high alert, it was best to be quiet and stick close by.

Soon, they came upon two dead walkers. This was a good sign, if they had killed the walkers, whoever the footprints belonged to was still alive and putting up a fight.

“Ain’t walker blood,” Daryl said softly, his fingers releasing a leaf he had been inspecting.

He was trying to let her down easy, the tone in his voice said as much, but it just made her angrier.

“They fought them off,” Beth insisted, walking on so she wouldn’t have to stand there and argue with him.

She was on a mission. The blonde felt like if she could just prove to him that the others had survived, any of them, he would believe her. If Daryl could just see that someone else had made it, he would quit hiding behind those walls he had hastily erected and begin being himself again. Only once he was better would he be willing to agree to her plan to track down Maggie. It wasn’t just for her own ends though, Beth wanted Daryl to feel better. The man had gone through enough pain losing Merle, the prison, he didn’t need any more. He needed their family as much as she did.

“No,” Daryl told her, as stubborn as ever, as he began to walk off “got walker tracks all up and down here. At least a dozen of them.”

“Don’t listen to Daryl,” Beth told herself, “don’t let him drag you down with him. You have to believe, you have to hope, someone needs to do it.”

Just as the young woman was giving herself this pep talk, a twig snapped behind her. She whirled around to find a walker already reaching for her. The blonde tried to get her knife out, but she was too busy keeping the corpse off her and avoiding the snapping jaws that were headed right for her throat.

“Ugh,” she grunted as she did her best to push the much larger walker away.

Without warning, the walker’s hands were ripped from her wrists as Daryl drug the beast away by its shirt collar. However, the momentum caused the hunter to fall, still holding the walker on top of him. As fast as she could, Beth withdrew her knife and stabbed the monster in the skull as Daryl held it off of him. Once the archer moved the now motionless body off him, his eyes met hers and there was something like respect in them. He nodded ever so slightly as he picked himself off the ground and Beth swelled with pride at being able to do something for him. The older man picked up his crossbow, which he must have dropped in his hurry to get to her (which was surprising since it was almost like a permeant fixture in his hand) and muttered at her to come on.

She followed, happy that he was finally willing to take the lead, being a much better tracker than herself. Neither talked until they came out at an opening that held railroad tracks. Beth felt elation quickly sink in her stomach as she took in the sight ahead. Walkers were bent over, feeding on something. Everything felt distant as Beth recognized a shoe and a shirt between the mess of limbs and guts.

Daryl shot the first walker and the second, choosing to stab the third. He then mechanically pulled his bolts out and cleaned them on the shirt of one of the corpses. His dark blue eyes flickered over to her, not with an ‘I told you so’, but merely with concern. That is when the tears finally fell. For her father, for the prison, for these people they had tracked down that didn’t make it. Daryl was right, she had been silly expecting them to be alive, for expecting things to go the way she wanted.

The archer watched her warily as sobs wracked her whole body, causing her shoulders to heave and soon she was lightheaded. He didn’t say a word, just watched until they seemed to subside a little. Without any preamble, he nodded gently at her.

“Come on,” he instructed, but it was much less harsh than every other order he had given her lately.

Not knowing what else to do, Beth followed his demand, putting one foot in front of the other as she passed the mess. Flies buzzed around and the smell was almost overpowering, but she just kept her eyes on Daryl’s jacket, the wings, trying to memorize every stich. She took in the way he walked, with the slightest limp, the way his shoulders were hunched like he was holding the whole world on top of them. He may have not been holding that much weight, but right now he was certainly holding her together. If she had been alone, if Beth didn’t have the archer here to keep her moving, she would have given up by now. That was the one good thing in the middle of all this mess, Daryl Dixon.

**Daryl’s POV**

He was right, but he hated it. He hated seeing her cry, although somewhere in him he knew it had to happen at some point. What he hated most was seeing the blonde look expressionless as she burned pages from her journal in the fire. He knew that look, the one that said life was too hard and it was easier to give up. He honestly couldn’t say he felt much differently now. If it was just him, he would have. But it wasn’t just him, he had Beth and right now everything centered on keeping her alive. It didn’t matter if he was tired, sleepy, or hungry, if he kept Beth alive, somehow he hadn’t completely failed the prison family. Thing was, he could keep her alive, but he couldn’t keep the light in her eyes from fading. It was already starting to dim and he wanted to stop it but didn’t know how. He hadn’t been able to keep his own light, how could he prevent her from losing hers?

The sound of ripping paper filled the air and suddenly Daryl’s hand was closing around Beth’s wrist.

“Stop,” he ordered, causing her pretty doe blue eyes to look up at him.

“Just fuckin stop it,” he growled, releasing her hand.

He knew he was doing a shitty job with this, with dealing with Beth’s pain, but he was far from being an expert in teenage girls or emotions. Surprisingly, the young woman didn’t argue with him and tucked the journal, or what was left of it, back into the back pocket of her jeans. She looked over at him with a curious expression before letting it drop back down to the fire.

“I want to learn to track,” she suddenly said, a bit of a spark back in her eyes.

“Fine,” he grunted, because that was one of the few things he would be able to give her.

“And I’m gonna find Maggie on my own,” she continued, making Daryl want to groan.

This girl was impossible. He had thought seeing what happened to the others from the prison would squelch her desire for this freakin snipe hunt for her sister, but something in her just didn’t give up. As much as her persistence and disillusionment annoyed him, a part of it also caused a longing in him, wishing that he could be like her, that he could believe something good could happen despite all odds.

“You don’t have to come,” she informed him, sounding like she was making some sort of deal despite him already agreeing to give her lessons, “but once I learn, once you have taught me as much as you can, I’m gonna go look for her.”

He looked up across the fire at the equally, if not more intense blaze in Beth’s eyes and already knew, he would go anywhere she went.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you everyone for following and reading my story. I appreciate all of your comments. In a few more chapters I'm really going to start diverging from the series and I'm excited about that!

**Beth’s POV**

The blonde ducked into the trunk of the car, feeling a bit breathless when Daryl followed her in, squeezing himself into the tiny space. His longer legs went between her legs and she could feel the heat radiating off his body. He began wrapping his favorite red bandana around the latch to the car, keeping it almost all the way shut, only a sliver of light broke through. It was stupid to be so aware of him when she should really be focusing on the immediate danger they were in. They had been running from a herd too big to circumvent. It had been the archer’s plan to pile into the trunk of the car and hide as the walkers shambled by. She didn’t know if this would work, if they would survive, but she was impressed with Daryl for coming up with the idea. He always seemed to know what to do in a tight situation. That’s just who he was, reliable, dependent, quick-thinking, and a survivor. Beth’s positive view of the hunter had only increased during their time alone together, despite him being grouchy as hell most of the time.

After the hunter finished securing the trunk, he had his crossbow up again, his eyes narrowed, ready to take on the first walker that tried to get at them. In that moment, Beth was terrified, but she was also in awe. It was a thing of beauty to watch Daryl and his intensity. The way he was so focused staring down the end of his crossbow, he hadn’t even become awkward yet at their legs touching, because he was so concentrated on guarding their little safe space. The way his eyes squinted with focus and his biceps rippled, looking like he was ready to take on hundreds of walkers and win at the drop of a hat, it was beautiful. Not that she would ever call him beautiful to his face, not that it would make any sense. It was beautiful though, to see someone so alive and so strong and so full of life even when everything had tried to crush it out of him.

A not so distant moan drew Beth back to the immediate danger. The blonde fidgeted around, managing to get the knife out of her belt and hold it up so that she could help him if need be. Not that it would matter, if a walker sensed them, the whole herd would be on them in an instant. Something about being with Daryl though made her feel like even if that happened, they would find a way out of it. The moans slowly increased in intensity, as did the shuffling feet and clacking teeth.

The first one to hit the car almost made Beth gasp, but she knew by now how to control herself. Daryl’s eyes slide over to her and the danger in them was reassuring. The blonde nodded at him to let him know she was okay, that she could handle this. Just as easily, the archer’s eyes slide back to the crack, watching every movement. Soon, the car was being knocked around as walker after walker stumbled into it, dented it, and pushed it slightly forward. The whole time, it felt like Beth didn’t even breathe.  This was like some demented game of hide and seek and so far they were winning. Finally, after hours, the groaning sounds began to subside. Only an occasional footstep or moan could be heard.

Daryl raised his hand, indicating that she lay back. Obviously, despite the herd being gone, he didn’t feel safe leaving yet. Besides, this sad little trunk was the most secure shelter they had had in days. The blonde tried to get comfortable enough to sleep, she could certainly use the rest. However, her legs had fallen asleep being halfway pulled into her chest. She needed to stretch them out but that would have her invading Daryl’s territory more than her companion would probably appreciate. She tried to ignore the tingling feeling, but quickly gave up. The blonde did her best to limit her movement, as she tried to untangle herself enough to get the blood flowing again.

Her companion’s attention was drawn away from his view of the outside and onto her. He must have been having a similar problem, because his eyebrows tightened as her cowboy boot knocked his foot. She couldn’t seem to find any available space and was about to give up when Daryl suddenly grabbed her foot. He lifted her leg up and placed it in his lap, sliding his legs on either side of her body, creating a lot more room than before. The blonde smiled shyly at him, if this made her self-conscious, she could only imagine how Daryl felt. The older man had returned to staring down the end of his crossbow, but Beth thought she could see a slight red tinge down his neck. He wasn’t nearly as gruff and unfeeling as many people assumed.

Finally, the blonde drifted off to sleep, feeling safe with Daryl’s legs resting on either side of her.  However, her sleep was not a restful one. She was like a ghost in her dream, not there but still able to see everything without interacting. She watched as Rick, Daryl, and Glenn were gagged by strangers and dragged over to a trough where others were bound, where they were pushed down on their knees. Nearby, a naked, freshly murdered person was being cut into pieces by someone covered in a suit and holding a saw. A man with blood on his shirt picked up knives and began running the blades along each other, creating an eerie sound. Without warning, one of the strangers grabbed a man kneeling by the bench and slit his throat, letting the blood run into the trough. They went down the line, getting closer and closer to her group. The blonde could see the fear and anger in Daryl’s eyes and it made her heart cry out. The blonde woke up gasping, a hand covering her mouth.

Everything came back to her, where she was, who she was with. Somehow, Daryl had managed to twist himself around in the trunk to reach over to muffle whatever sounds she had been making. In the process, the man was practically hovering right on top of her. His left hand was supporting himself right by her stomach, his right was over her mouth, and his knees were in-between her legs.

“Fuck girl,” he whispered hoarsely, “can’t be makin noise like that.”

The blonde didn’t care that she was getting scolded or what awkward position they were in. Daryl was here and he was okay and not ready to be killed by some psychopaths. The blonde wrapped her arms around the hunter, causing him to get thrown off balance and fall right on top of her.

“You are okay, thank God Daryl” she breathed, as she held the man as tight as she had the power to.

That is when her actions caught up with her brain. The blonde had the intimidating hunter pressed along her whole body, in a much more intimate way than she had meant.  He had frozen completely, the only way she knew he was alive was a rattling breathe that tickled her neck. She let go and immediately Daryl scrambled to the other end of the trunk, untying the bandana like she was a herd of walkers he was trying to get away from.

“Daryl,” she pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just had such a terrible dream and you…..they were gonna….I was just so relieved…”

“Need to get goin,” he answered roughly, not looking at her, “burnin daylight.”

As soon as he opened the hood, daylight poured in blinding her. Daryl was already out and walking down the road before Beth could even recover. The blonde hopped out, following behind him as fast as possible since he had set quite the quick pace. He seemed determined to put as much distance between them as possible. The whole day they didn’t speak a word until they finally set up camp for the night.

“Gonna go hunting,” Daryl had told her, dropping some of his belongings before stalking off.

The blonde felt bad about what happened earlier, but it also wasn’t her fault that he was so damn sensitive about any little touch. Still, she could try and make it up to him by doing as much as she could to get the camp ready before he got back. The young woman gathered sticks and began making a fire. She used a piece of a mirror to reflect the sun until little flames came to life around the kindling. Next, she set up an alarm system around their campsite and then worked on making a covering. It was small and barely propped up by the medium sized log she had found, but it was all that was available. Unfortunately, she already knew after this morning there was no way Daryl would be wanting a repeat session of them in close proximity so most of her work on building a shelter would likely go to waste.

The blonde sighed as she looked around at their few belongings. Things were still better than the day the prison fell in terms of their provisions, they had been picking up items here and there along their way. However, soon they would be running short on water and food. Daryl’s need to go hunting probably had more to do with this morning than their few supplies, but it was still a necessary task.

**Daryl’s POV**

Fucking girl, just pouncing on him like that. If he didn’t know better he would easily get confused about her intentions. He had already felt awkward as fuck trying not to be a creep as he had shimmied his way around the trunk to cover her mouth when his nudges to her foot and whispered warnings hadn’t worked. Then, when her eyes suddenly popped open and locked on him like he was the only person that mattered to her at that moment, her hands suddenly pulling him into her. Heck, what was a guy supposed to think when he had such a pretty young girl underneath him in that position? Shit, she had smelled so good even after them living out on the road, she had been so warm and welcoming. His dick had reacted faster than his brain had even been able to process the situation and the moment he had felt his pants start to get tight he had to get out of there.

Even once he got out of that goddamn trunk, Beth’s apologizes falling on his deaf ears, a buzzing still filled his whole body like he was about to vibrate out of his own skin. He had felt, still fucking felt, so ashamed. Last thing that poor girl needed after losing her home, her father, and their whole group was to have some redneck asshole making moves on her. A redneck asshole who hadn’t protected her home or her family and she was now stuck with. He felt like absolute shit, he could only hope Beth hadn’t noticed anything. If she had he thought the ground would just swallow him up alive.

Daryl growled as he looked down his crossbow at a squirrel, trying his best to concentrate but failing miserably. He pulled the trigger and watched as the potential supper ran away. His arrow was buried in the tree trunk and when he went to retrieve it, he noticed the wood along the shaft was cracking. Just his fucking luck. They needed food though. The archer wasn’t about to let Beth go hungry. No matter how much his sorry ass wanted to run as far away as possible from her, he needed to get the fuck over his own prissy emotional bullshit so he could keep her alive.

On his way back, he caught sight of movement on the forest floor. A big, fat rattlesnake slithered out from under a log and all at once Daryl saw the potential for them to eat tonight. Finding a stick with a fork in it, he snuck up behind the creature. It had been a long time since he had eaten snake, never a rattlesnake. He sure as hell didn’t want to get bitten, not when that was a death sentence nowadays. His vision focused down to the serpents head and then he lunged forward, using the stick to pin the reptile’s head to the ground before cutting it off with his knife.

He felt pretty good about himself as he brought the meal into camp. Surely Beth would be happy to see he had something for them. He didn’t know how to handle her, especially this morning, but if he knew how to do one thing that was survive. When he tromped into camp, he was pleased to see that she had already set everything up. Girl was a quick learner, she had obviously been watching how he strung up loud objects to alarm them to any walkers. If they could keep this up, pretty soon they would be a kickass team. His confident attitude deflated when he ran into Beth and saw the horrified look she shot at his kill before raising those baby blues to him as if pleading for him not to make her eat it.

Immediately irritated, he turned his back and began skinning the snake, easily pulling down the scales to reveal pink flesh. Even he wasn’t finding that appetizing to look at, but fuck, he wasn’t one to turn down a meal. When it became apparent that Beth wasn’t going to jump in and help him cook the meat, he grabbed the hubcap from earlier and placed it over the fire, setting hunks of snake around it. When it finished, he moved the makeshift plate and let it cool. All the while, the teenager hung back warily. Deciding it was time, he picked a piece up and bit a huge hunk out, to show Beth it wasn’t horrible. It actually wasn’t that great, but Daryl was used to suboptimal food. Picking up another slice, he walked over to Beth and shoved it in her hand.

“Really,” she asked, looking up at him.

He just nodded and went back to his spot and plopped down. Wasn’t his fault this was all they had, girl should be damn grateful. Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl watched as the blonde hesitantly picked at the meat and then sampled it. Obviously, she didn’t find it too disgusting because she finished it and even took a second, all the while looking defeated. The archer watched his companion, feeling like he should say something but knowing he wouldn’t be able to get the words out. Luckily for him, Beth didn’t have that particular problem.

“I need a drink,” she said suddenly, staring at him like this was some mind-boggling revaluation.

This request didn’t seem that weird to him, they had been walking all day in the hot sun. Sure, they didn’t have a ton of water but if she wanted some, he wasn’t gonna stop her. He grabbed one of the plastic water bottles, his grimy hands making it sticky, and tossed it to her, not wanting to risk getting any closer than necessary. The blonde flinched when it landed next to her and looked annoyed.

“No, I mean a real drink,” she clarified, moving the bottle aside, “as in alcohol.”

That sounded like a horrible idea to him, he knew how he got when he drank. Even if he had been a happy drunk, it wasn’t exactly ideal to be wandering around the woods in the middle of the fucking apocalypse drunk. That was how you ended up dead. He bit into the snake, hoping if he ignored her, somehow the topic would magically disappear. Of course, she didn’t drop it though, because this was Beth.

“I’ve never had one,” she continued, reminding him how young and too good she was for the likes of him.

“Cause of my dad,” the blonde explained, “But he is not exactly around anymore so….”

Those blue eyes were on him, he just knew it, could feel them burning a hole in his head, which is exactly why he didn’t dare glance over at her. He knew she could talk him into it.

“Sooooo, I thought we could go find some,” Beth finished, sounding hopeful despite Daryl’s very pointed lack of encouragement.

Daryl knew from experience what it felt like to want to make all the pain go away, how the alcohol did make it go away for a little while, but the hurt was always there again in the morning. He didn’t know how to tell her that or what better alternative there was to deal with her loss, so he just continued eating, praying she would forget her plan.

“Okay,” the blonde said after a minute, standing up from her spot, “enjoy your snake jerky.”

She walked past him and picked up the knife he had given her and had taken back to use to skin the snake. His eyes followed her retreating back and he knew he had fucked up again. Never could seem to do things right, especially when it came to Beth. Resigned to his fate, Daryl tossed his food back on the hubcap and began following the tracks the blonde had left.

**Beth’s POV**

Daryl pissed Beth off so much sometimes. She knew they weren’t super close buds and that she had freaked him out this morning, but seriously! She had had a whole conversation with him and he hadn’t so much as grunted or looked over at her. The blonde knew her anger at him wasn’t exactly warranted, that he was going through things just like she was, but that didn’t give him the right to treat her like shit!

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath, which she never would have attempted if Daryl had actually been there, the man seemed to have supernatural hearing.

The young woman was drawn out of her anger by four walkers appearing in front of her. She at first considered going back to Daryl, since she wasn’t exactly the best at killing the shambling corpses and there was a lot for just her to take on, but that felt like defeat. Instead, the blonde pulled her knife out and hid behind a tree trunk. Her eyes darted down to spot a rock at her feet. She carefully bent down and snatched the object up and tossed it away from her. The blonde watched with bated breath as her plan actually worked and the turned humans stumbled off to other parts of the woods. Just as she was about to release a sigh of relief, a twig snapped and she turned around to find Daryl staring at her, his crossbow pointed at the walkers.

There was something about the look he was giving her that told her he had been there the whole time. That even if her plan hadn’t worked, he wouldn’t have let anything happen to her. It was so weird how one moment he couldn’t even look at her and the next he was ready to jump into danger to protect her. It was also the sweetest thing Beth had ever seen. Then, the archer turned and walked off, leaving Beth to follow him. She had to hurry to keep up with his pace, the hunter seemed to effortlessly dodge tree limbs and dart over debris.

“We have gone quite a way,” the blonde attempted to draw the archer into conversation after they had been walking a while.

When he didn’t even turn around, she tried again.

“What is your plan, do you know of any places the might have alcohol,” she questioned, wondering what his logic was.

Suddenly, her knees ran into a line almost causing her to fall on her face as cans began to rattle. The blonde looked around, taking in their campsite.

“What the hell,” she cussed out loud, for probably the first time in her life, “You brought me back!”

The young woman felt so betrayed for some reason, even though she knew logically that what she wanted wasn’t exactly the best for an apocalypse situation. She wasn’t the kind to drink her sorrows away, at least she didn’t think so. However, she needed to live a little, not just survive. The blonde wanted to let loose for possibly the first time in her life and she couldn’t understand why Daryl didn’t get that she needed this. She needed to forget for a little while, she wanted him to do the same, maybe then he would do something other than sit there like a bump on a log when she talked to him.

“I’m not staying in this suck-ass camp,” she found herself saying, even though she knew Daryl was just doing his best with what they had.

She honestly wasn’t mad about the camp, she was mad at him. Beth was mad at Daryl for not talking to her, for not listening to her, for not even deigning to do so much as even make a grunt when she said something. She was sick of him withdrawing from her and their whole situation and making her feel even more alone than ever. She was tired of his pessimistic attitude and constant reminders that their life was shitty and her dreams were probably never going to come true. With those thoughts running through her mind, the blonde did something she had never even dreamed of. She flipped Daryl Dixon off.

It was totally worth it, to see Daryl’s carefully constructed mask of not giving a shit slip off and be replaced by anger. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone again, only infuriating her further.

“Hey,” he snarled, grabbing the same hand she had shot the middle finger with and trying to drag her back to camp, “You have had your fun.”

“What is wrong with you,” Beth shouted, yanking her hand out of Daryl’s grasp only because he let her, “Don’t you feel anything?”

Even as the words came out, Beth knew they were not true, that Daryl probably felt a lot more than most people did. However, she was tired of him acting like he didn’t, of pretending like it didn’t get to him.

“Yeah, you feel like we are all screwed,” she shot out at him, “I guess that is a feeling, hunh? So you want to spend the rest of our lives staring into a fire and eating mud snakes? Screw that!”

Something she said touched Daryl, she could see it in his eyes. She needed to make him understand that surviving wasn’t living.

“We might as well do something,” she pleaded with the man, “I can take care of myself and I’m gonna get a damn drink!”

By now, getting a drink was more a matter of pride than actual want. She could do a number of things to make herself feel more alive but the fact that she had just argued with Daryl over the alcohol made her feel like she couldn’t back down now. In order to earn the archer’s respect, she needed to follow through with what she said she would do. The blonde headed through the brush, determination moving her forward.

**Daryl’s POV**

He knew he was being unnecessarily stubborn. Daryl had had more than enough drinks in his life, who was he to tell Beth Greene she couldn’t have one after losing so much. If anything, the idea had fired her up almost to her normal levels of activity, so obviously it was doing some good. The archer grumbled as he packed up camp, annoyed at how the woman just didn’t fuckin listen to him. Not that he normally listened to other people so he guessed it was karma biting him in the ass.

After getting everything together, he began tracking Beth. For a moment he got panicked when he didn’t see her trail anywhere, but breathed a sigh of relief when he found it again. Before long, he had the blonde in his sights again and all of the tension he didn’t even realize he was holding in his body released. Not wanting to anger her further, Daryl followed far enough behind that she didn’t notice him. God, this girl was so irritating, she knew just how to raise his hackles. He was doing his best to do what a good guy would do in this situation, be calm and keep his mouth shut if he couldn’t say the right thing. However, it was like the little blonde angel was just trying to provoke him. He wasn’t good with words, but they only got infinitely worse when he was angry. And God she made him so damn angry!

After a few hours, he could tell she was getting thirsty. Sweat trickled down her neck and gathered on the back of her tank, making it cling to her even tighter. Her cheeks were flushed a nice red, showing off how pale she really was. Daryl tried to keep his eyes from traveling places they shouldn’t but it was like fighting a losing battle. The blonde was already lanky and the lack of food hadn’t helped that any, but there was still something feminine about the slight curve of her hips and her chest. The way she walked, even angry, was fluid and sweet in a way no man moved. Her blonde hair was falling out of her ponytail and little ends were curling.

That is when Daryl decided he couldn’t walk behind her any longer. After clearing he throat, he caught up to the young woman, who didn’t seem to be that surprised that he had followed. After a moment of walking side by side, he decided he should at least try talking to her.

“Got some plan or just gonna amble around these woods for the next few days,” he asked.

“Well since you won’t help me and I don’t have a map, I don’t really see any other choice than to hope I stumble across something,” the woman told him, glancing up as if hoping he had changed him mind.

“Guess so,” he muttered, enjoying the annoyed look on her face more than he should.

“Are you gonna actually teach me about tracking or just be a pain in the ass the whole time,” the blonde muttered, shooting a glare at him that didn’t really have any weight behind it.

“I’m gonna start teaching when you start listening to me,” Daryl contended, just as stubborn as she was.

Right then, they broke into a clearing with a house up ahead. It was a golf course, one Daryl had seen before on his runs with Michonne.

“Golfers like to booze it up, right,” Beth turned to him uncertainty, looking for an answer.

Daryl wanted to snort, what was he the expert on alcohol? He probably was quite honestly after how much he had to drink in his youth, not that he was about to tell her about it. If she wanted to do this, she had to figure it out on her own. It was like a rite of passage. The archer glanced over at the walkers bee lining for them from around the golf course. There wasn’t many, they could easily outrun them. He turned back to Beth and gave her a nod that was hopefully encouraging.

“Come on,” Beth instructed, suddenly sounding confident despite her lapse earlier.

Despite how stupid this whole thing was, Daryl had to admit the girl had balls. When he was her age, he hadn’t thought for himself, led anything on his own. He had followed whatever Merle told him to do and when Merle was gone he found himself following whatever Rick told him to do. Rick was much better than Merle, but still, he was a grown ass man who was barely learning how to make his own choices. Here was Beth, young, grieving, and out of her element, and she still somehow found the confidence to make her own decisions and stick with them. She wasn’t a follower, Beth was a leader. And he sure as heck would follow her.

**Beth’s POV**

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” Beth thought to herself as she walked through the door Daryl held open for her.

Inside it was a complete pigsty, bodies were hanging by ropes from the ceiling, their decaying hands reaching towards her. The scent made her want to throw up. She was about to back out but Daryl was already through the door and closing it behind them with a golf club between the two door handles for higher security. The archer picked up a flashlight off the floor and to their surprise it worked. The hunter took the lead, inching through the mess and bodies, making sure everything was safe as she followed. Once the archer was sure the coast was clear, he dropped down to his knees and began shoving items into a bag.

“What do you need all that for,” Beth asked, but before the archer could answer there were walkers pounding on the glass door.

For a second, Daryl and Beth shared a glance of terror before the archer headed for the next room, Beth right on his heels. As soon as she was through, he slammed the much sturdier wood door and locked it. They were both breathing heavily when they turned to look at the unknown place they had run into. There were empty alcohol bottles laying all around as they made their way through, looking for an alternative exit. On a desk, she found a small little flashlight that had a tiny light, but was better than nothing. The next room they entered was a kitchen. Beth made her way for the pantry, finding just what she was looking for.

It was a bottle, of what she didn’t know but it was still sealed and that was the main thing. Sweeping the flashlight around to make sure there was no danger, the blonde entered the pantry and began reaching up to the highest shelf. She couldn’t quite reach, so she set the flashlight down and climbed up the shelf a ways before grabbing the alcohol. The blonde was so happy, she felt like she had won whatever argument Daryl and her were having. She had gone and found alcohol all on her own and now whether the hunter liked it or not, she was going to have a drink. Just as Beth left the pantry, so focused on her new find that she wasn’t paying close attention, a walker lunged out at her, it’s hands pulling at her right arm.

Screaming, Beth tried to fight the monster off and looked over her shoulder at where she had last seen Daryl but the man was nowhere in sight. He had followed her so often she just expected him to show up when she needed him most. The sound of gnashing teeth increased as the corpse got excited and Beth couldn’t get to her knife with the walker hanging onto her right arm. In desperation, Beth lifted the glass bottle and brought it down on the former human’s head, breaking the neck off. She then used the broken end to stab the walker in the eye repeatedly. The blonde was beginning to think that all her efforts were not going to be enough so in desperation, she shoved the walker hard and dropped the bottle, managing to get her knife out. With only inches to spare, Beth sent the knife home just as the walker was about to bite her. She watched the body slide lifeless to the floor before hearing footsteps as Daryl appeared around the corner, his eyes wide and terrified. When he saw her there they changed to something she could only describe as pride.

“Thanks for the help,” Beth breathed, annoyed more at herself for letting the walker get so close.

“Ya said you could take care of yourself and ya did,” Daryl said simply, before continuing off in his search of the house.

Beth felt something well up in her that wasn’t the same as when she held the alcohol in her hand, for the short period she had it that is. Something about Daryl’s praise, she knew he didn’t say things like that without meaning them. If he thought she could take care of herself, then she could. If Daryl believed in her, she could do a lot of things she never would have thought herself capable of before.

The next room they entered was the gift shop. It had all sorts of clothes that looked like heaven to Beth’s eyes. Daryl obvious wasn’t interested, Beth figured even before all this he was a one pair of jeans and a shirt kind of guy. However, she could do with a new shirt, her tank was getting dirty and didn’t cover her well enough to be protection against the scratchy tree limbs and the sun’s rays. After she had changed into a yellow polo with a white cardigan, she came back to find Daryl sitting on the counter smoking. He looked so good, even covered in dirt and blood, he somehow pulled it off. Only Daryl could look casual as he relaxed in a rundown, snobbish country club full of dead bodies.

The blonde was about to go up to him when something else caught her eye. It was a corpse set up like a mannequin. The woman’s shirt had been undone, showing off the woman’s bra and a sign that said ‘Rich Bitch’ was tied around her neck. The blonde couldn’t help but wonder at the never ending cruelty she now knew was present in the human race. She walked over to the woman and couldn’t help but imagine how she would feel if someone did this to her corpse, or her mother’s, or Maggie’s…. Beth shuddered at the thought and reached over to try and move the woman but she was stuck firmly on the platform.

The blonde looked over at Daryl for help, only to find that he was watching her curiously, as if he didn’t know what had interested her so much.

“Help me,” she asked him.

“It don’t matter, she’s dead,” Daryl retorted in his classic ‘I don’t give a shit’ fashion’, before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“It does matter,” Beth disagreed, wanting Daryl to see things how she did, wanting him to know that sometimes you did things just because they were right, not because they made a difference.

For a moment, the archer looked ashamed. Then, he picked up some piece of fabric and covered the woman.

“There,” he told her.

It wasn’t her first choice, but it worked. Just as they were looking for the next room to explore, a grandfather clock near them went off, causing a dinging noise throughout the whole building. Immediately, walkers started coming out of rooms all around them. Beth noticed one room none were appearing from and went for it, sure that Daryl would follow. When she got there, she found it was a dead end. The blonde turned around, her heart beating so loudly in her chest she could barely think.

Before she could even get her knife out, Daryl shot one of the walkers through the head. He was a blur of action, taking one out and then another. He was efficient as ever, dispatching each one as it came through the door. As the last one limped through, an old man who could have been someone’s grandfather, Daryl suddenly changed. Instead of killing the walkers as quick as possible, he picked up a golf club and began beating the walker, all over the body, not going for the easy headshot like Beth knew he could. Once he had the shambling corpse on the ground he started really hitting it, anger in his eyes, flashing with danger. Finally, he took aim at the head and finished the thing in one blow, causing blood to fly all over her.

“Oh,” Beth whispered under her breath, as she realized that Daryl hadn’t just been good at hiding his emotions this whole time, he apparently didn’t know how to process what happened at the prison.

The moment it happened Daryl stilled, as if he realized what he had just done. He looked over at her with regret and shame on his face. The blonde quickly unbuttoned the cardigan, now splattered with blood that would never come out, and tossed it on the floor. No use crying over it, she didn’t want to make Daryl feel worse than he already looked.

“Come on,” she ordered, going back out the door, as Daryl followed her with his head hung low.

The next room they found was the bar.

“We made it,” Beth breathed, before turning to her companion.

The look on his face just broke her heart, like he thought she wouldn’t want him around after what had just happened, like somehow he had scared her off and she was going to take off running.

“I know you think this is stupid,” she told him, trying to get him to look up at her, “and it probably is.”

 “But I don’t care,” she continued, “All I wanted to do today was lay down and cry, but we don’t get to do that. So beat up on walkers if it makes you feel better. I need to do this.”

She saw something like amazement in his eyes as she told him that she understood why he had done it and she didn’t care, that she was doing the same thing just in a different way. The look he was giving her was one she had never seen before, but she sure hoped she saw it again. Right now though, she had a bigger mission to worry about, like how she was going to get Daryl Dixon to loosen up enough to let her help him deal with all the emotions he obviously wasn’t handling. He had done so much for her, it was the least she could do for him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me a long time to write this chapter. I kept getting writer's block and finally got buzzed to get the beginning out (I figure it is all in keeping with the theme of this chapter though). I hope y'all like it, unlike some of the other chapters Daryl and Beth were actually talking a lot so there is not as many of their thoughts to write, but at the same time, no one can ever really tell what is on Daryl's mind based on what he says.

**Daryl’s POV**

It was a fucking goddamn miracle, but for once in his life Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth and cause everything to go to shit. The moment he threw that bottle of alcohol on the floor and growled about how he wasn’t gonna let Beth’s first drink be no damn peach schnapps, he was sure he had fucked up. Girl had just worked so hard for that fruity drink. She had argued with him, drug his ass through the fucking forest, fought a walker, all for this drink so there was no doubt in his mind that she deserved it. However, it just hadn’t seemed right.

The archer had tried to ignore the way Beth’s eyes had started to water up as she clung to the neck of the bottle like a lifeline. This wasn’t the way a teenager was supposed to get their first drink. This should be something fun, something thrilling, not a tear-filled quick sip of some second-rate alcohol in a destroyed bar reeking of death. Beth deserved better than that.

It was that last thought that made Daryl quit throwing darts and pretending like he couldn’t see that the blonde was on the verge of a total meltdown. He strode over to the young woman and yanked the bottle out of her hand, tossing it to the ground, causing a tinkling sound to fill the air.

“Ain’t gonna have your first drink be no damn peach schnapps,” he had said, opening the door which led outside “come on.”

Once his mind caught up with his body, he wanted to smack himself so hard. He was sure he had messed everything up, that Beth would yell at him like she had been doing lately, maybe even finally leave his sorry, socially stunted ass. If she had slapped him he wouldn’t say he didn’t deserve it. Instead, a miracle happened. Somehow, the archer’s crass words and rough show of affection had the blonde wiping her eyes and sliding off the barstool to follow him. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t on the brink of a breakdown, because of something HE had SAID. It had taken 32 years for him to ever accomplish such a feat, but he thanked whatever God was out there that it had happened today.

Soon, he had them both tramping through the forest towards a place he had found with Michonne when they were out hunting for the Governor. The Country Club had helped him orient his surroundings and now he had a good idea of what direction they should go. He noted the lack of walkers during their journey, which could mean they were forming a herd somewhere. Beth began humming very softly as they walked, not loud enough to draw anything, but just enough to cause Daryl to strain to hear every note. The blonde sure was resilient, she could go from looking utterly devastated to a humming ray of sunshine. There was a light in her that just didn’t seem capable of going out.

 “A motorcycle mechanic,” Beth suddenly blurted out from behind him, disrupting their mostly silent trek.

“Hunh,” Daryl grouched, mostly because he missed the music falling from her lips.

She was looking at him with curiosity and interest, something he wasn’t used to anyone doing, but then again Beth wasn’t like anyone else he had ever met.

“That’s my guess, for what you did before,” the blonde explained, bobbing her head in a way that caused his fingers to twitch “for what you were doing before the turn, did Zach ever guess that one?”

It always came back to this, to who he was before, doesn’t matter that the freakin apocalypse happened, he could never get away from his past. It was somewhat flattering that both Zach and Beth would think so highly of him as to assume that he had actually held down a job and contributed to society. However, it also made him that much more defensive because if they really knew what he was like before, they wouldn’t look at him the same way.

“It don’t matter,” the older man evades, “hasn’t mattered in a long time.

“It’s just what people talk about,” she clarified, “ya know, to feel normal.”

There is that word, normal. There has been so many times in the redneck’s life when he realized he wasn’t normal. The first time was when he went to school and noticed he was the only one with tattered clothes and bruises and a mom that didn’t pack his lunches. Then, when all the other kids went off to college or got a job, he had followed Merle in being a good-fer-nothin-piece-of-shit which involved multiple brushes with death. Now he was thriving in the apocalypse and unlike everyone else, he wasn’t longing for the past, he couldn’t seem to get far enough away from it.

“Yeah,” said Daryl with a slight defensive edge to his tone as his eyes slide over to her, “well that never felt normal to me.”

When his companion quit talking, he immediately felt bad. Daryl knew Beth, knew the blonde didn’t mean anything by what she had said. However, considering he had already said one thing right today, he had probably used up his quota for the next year. Luckily, soon after they came upon the very spot he was looking for, putting an end to the awkward silence. Before them was a trashy trailer house. Debris and old furniture was strewn in the yard and the paint was peeling. The weeds had overgrown the plot and the porch was littered with broken pots. A lot of places were looking run-down these days, but Daryl knew it probably hadn’t looked much different here even before all the shit hit the fan.

“Found this place with Michonne,” he told her, suddenly feeling nervous.

What if this was a mistake? So much of this place reminded Daryl of his childhood, he felt like he was stepping back in time. There was a reason why he had let Michonne scope the trailer out while he had stood watch. He hadn’t needed to go inside and see what was in each room, he already knew, the same way he knew there was a stash of homemade brew somewhere around here. However, Beth wanted a drink and he was determined now not to let her down, especially since he had destroyed her only other option for a liquid escape.

“I was expecting a liquor store,” came Beth’s confused voice beside him as she took in the holes in the roof and an overturned chair with only three legs.

“No, this is better,” he promised her, forcing himself to step onto the property.

Daryl’s brain told him that this was a different place and a different time, but his heart wasn’t listening. He was on edge, waiting to hear the sound of his paw kicking the door open and yelling his name.  His muscles tensed as if preparing for the pain of his old man’s belt on his back. Everything in him screamed to leave, but then Beth spoke.

“What is it,” the blonde asked, falling into a ready stance behind him and looking around, the girl had picked up on his wariness and was assuming he had spotted danger.

“Nothin,” Daryl mumbled, embarrassed that Beth had noticed how he was feeling and not wanting to explain.

The young woman looked over at him, her big, blue eyes taking him in as he felt a shiver run down his spine. The way Beth looked at him, no one else ever had. It was like she saw him, really saw him, not just the façade he put on or the lies he spat out. It was downright unnerving. He huffed and looked away, trying to break the connection before she saw too much.

The hunter led the teenager to a little side room attached to the house, his gut told him this is where he would find a stash. Once inside, he saw a still, several barrels of long rotted corn which mice scurried out of, and an assortment of pots and pans. At first, the archer was worried someone had already raided the place and found what he was looking for. However, upon closer inspection, he noticed a discrepancy in the floorboards. Sure enough, when he pried the board up, underneath were mason jars filled with a clear liquid. Just what he had been looking for. The redneck grabbed a wooden crate from nearby and carefully pulled each jar out.

“What’s that,” asked Beth innocently from the door, her eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

“Moonshine,” he answered, hauling the basket up and handing the prize over to the young blonde.

She looked so out of place standing there with her arms full of moonshine, dirt all over her clothes, her hair flying out of her ponytail, but there was a smile on her face. A smile he had put there.

“Gonna check the trailer, make sure it is safe,” he told her, wanting to escape the tingling that was starting in his chest, making it feel like bees were building a fuckin hive in his lungs.

 “Okay,” the blonde agreed with a grin, looking at him like he was Superman and not just some redneck hick who was giving an underage girl illegal alcohol.

Daryl lifted up his crossbow and hurridly entered the trailer. Ignoring the familiarity of the clutter, the archer focused on inspecting each room and listening for any sound. Much to his annoyance, there wasn’t a single walker inside. He really could have used something to shoot at right about now, he felt like he had too much energy inside of him. Instead, he went back and opened the door to let Beth in.

**Beth’s POV**

This shouldn’t be sweet, it shouldn’t be thoughtful. This was two lonely, hurting, broken people finding alcohol to numb their pain after a long day. However, the care Daryl took in cleaning a plastic cup like it was the finest glass and then pouring her a small amount of moonshine and setting it on the table made Beth feel like there was something more to this than just desperation.

“Now that’s a first drink right there,” drawled the archer, with what sounded like pride.

The blonde looked down, for the first time actually considering the implications of what she was about to do. Her mind raced through time remembering everything she had heard about alcohol. How her father said it was the devil’s tool, how he had almost torn his whole family apart with his addiction. This wasn’t what good, church-going, farmer’s daughters did, this wasn’t what Beth did.

“What’s the matter,” asked Daryl.

“Nothing,” Beth replied, feeling embarrassed that her past had such a strong hold on her, even after everything that had happened, “It’s just….that my dad always said bad moonshine could make you go blind.”

Her daddy had said lot more than that. Beth had only recently begun to realize that her father’s bad history with alcohol may have colored just how much Hershel had discouraged his girls from ever even trying a single drink. She wasn’t that girl anymore, the one who was always perfect and always listened to her father, but she still found herself hesitating. It irritated her so much, she wanted to grow up and be different, but she needed encouragement.

“Ain’t nothing worth seeing out there anymore anyway,” Daryl immediately responded, shoving the cup towards her, his confidence making Beth’s insecurities fade away.

Not allowing time to second guess herself, the blonde grabbed the cup and raised it to her lips. The moment she took a sip, the liquid burned it’s way down her throat, cleared out her nostrils, and made her eyes water.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted,” she blurted out, not being able to control her emotions.

She was rewarded with a snort and a shrug by her companion, who didn’t look surprised. That annoyed her a bit, that he had expected her not to be able to handle the moonshine. Seeing him look at her that way brought out her stubborn streak, without thinking of the consequences, she raised up the cup and finished it. The clear liquid scorched her throat like fire, but Beth didn’t dare let Daryl see that. She managed for once to keep a straight face and when she looked back at the archer, he had one eyebrow cocked, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her daring attempt.

“Second round’s better,” she quipped, as if it had been nothing.

Unfortunately, she was pretty sure the older man could see right through her. Wanting to thank Daryl for going out of his way to help her find a drink, she reached for the mason jar, pouring the alcohol into her cup.

“Slow down,” cautioned Daryl, the rough tones in his voice affecting Beth more than usual.

“This one is for you,” she explained, offering the glass with a smile to her companion.

“No, I’m good,” the older man declined, confusing Beth.

She knew Daryl was no alcoholic, but from what she knew of the rough man she couldn’t imagine him being opposed to having a drink now and then. Especially after he had worked so hard to find this for them. Alcohol was becoming more and more of a rarity in the apocalypse and Beth couldn’t make sense of why the archer was opposed to this small luxury.

 “Why,” she asked, not wanting to pressure him but feeling thoroughly perplexed by his behavior.

 “Someone’s gotta keep watch,” he dismissed her.

Something about what the archer said bothered Beth. If Rick had been here instead of her, if it had been Glenn or Michonne, she didn’t feel like Daryl would have passed up a drink. Around her though, he had to always be on guard because he must view her the way everyone else did, a young girl that needed protection, not an equal. That really irked Beth because while she knew it was a long shot that the self-sufficient, older man would ever be interested in her the way she was in him, she had hoped at least to finally be something of a friend or at least someone he could rely on, someone he would take seriously. No, instead he just saw her as helpless child that he needed to watch over.

“So…what? You like my chaperone now,” asked Beth, annoyed that right when it seemed like the archer had been opening up her he was already shutting her out again.

“Nah, just drink lots of water,” avoided her companion, walking off and ending the conversation.

“Yes Mr. Dixon,” Beth called after him, feeling fed up with his attitude and deciding that if he wanted to act like her chaperone instead of her friend and traveling companion that she would address him as such, knowing that the title would likely irk him.

She had worked so hard the past few days, she had been through so much and she wasn’t going to let Daryl ruin this for her now. The blonde raised the cup to her lips, taking another sip of what she had poured for the archer. In the background, she could hear the hunter roughly shifting through piles of junk and tossing things to the side. Beth was disappointed that she would be drinking alone, drinking was much more of a social occurrence in her mind, but she was just going to have to make do with what she had.

Just as the young woman was finishing off her drink, a loud bang caused her to jump. She swiveled around, hand flying to the knife on her hip. However, it was only Daryl, who had suddenly started pounding nails into boards over the windows. The archer was hitting them with a ferocity that reminded Beth of the way he beat the last walker at the country club. The racket completely ruined any good atmosphere the blonde had been trying to imagine as she sat there drinking solo. It was also a sad reminder of just how unsafe they were. When Daryl turned around to pick up the next board he finally caught a glimpse of her expression.

“Wha,” he grunted between the nails he held in his mouth.

Beth shook her head ever so slightly and turned back around, determined to make the best of this moment no matter what mood her companion was in. After so much noise that she was beginning to get a headache, the young woman finally gave up trying to drink and began searching the trailer for anything of use. Maybe later Daryl would be in a better mood.

“Or maybe not,” Beth thought as a loud bang was followed by a string of curses.

The blonde carefully sorted through the piles of rubbish strewn about the floor, careful not to get cut by whatever could be laying hidden underneath the rags and newspapers. A simple cut could be disastrous these days if it got infected. In her search, she came across a big, pink, ceramic pot designed to look like a bra.

“Who’d go into a store and walk out with this,” laughed the blonde, pulling her find out for Daryl to see, hoping it would lighten his mood.

“My dad, that’s who,” said Daryl so bluntly that Beth was surprised.

Usually the archer didn’t talk about his past, except for the one time in the barn. Immediately, Beth regretted ever bringing the stupid pot out, he obviously hadn’t found it amusing.

“Oh, he’s a dumbass,” the hunter continued, as if that explained everything.

He must have read in her expression that she didn’t understand.

“He’d set those up on top of the TV,” the archer continued, motioning towards the ancient television on the floor, “use them as target practice.”

“He shot things inside your house,” Beth couldn’t help but blurt out.

She had known from the one time Daryl had talked about his dad that he wasn’t a nice person, but the blonde couldn’t imagine her father ever shooting something in their house, it was such a foreign idea to her.

“It was just a bunch of junk anyway,” Daryl said, trying to brush it off like it was nothing, “That’s how I knew what this place was. That shed out there, my dad had a place just like this.”

“Ya got yer dumpster chair,” the archer described like he was a tour guide for run-down trailer houses, motioning with the hammer he had found, “that’s fer sittin in yer drawers all summer drinkin. Got yer fancy buckets, that’s fer spitting chaw in after yer old lady tells ya to stop smokin.”

“Ya got yer internet,” Daryl said, reaching over to grab a limp newspaper.

Beth had never heard Daryl talk so much about his family or his childhood before, but suddenly it started clicking for her. The reason the gruff man didn’t want to drink with her and was in a bad mood had nothing to do with her and everything to do with this place. The man could take on a herd of walkers or the evil ruler of a community trying to kill them without batting an eye, but this junky home was another story. Before he could continue, a moan emanated from right outside the trailer. Beth rose to get up, but Daryl held out a finger to her and peered carefully outside.

“It’s just one of them,” Daryl informed her.

“Should we take care of it,” Beth asked.

“If he keeps making too much noise, ya,” Daryl answered, not sounding too concerned, which alleviated the blonde’s fears.

“Well, if we are gonna be trapped again,” Beth began, deciding that maybe now would be a good time to try and persuade the hunter a second time, “we might as well make the best of it.”

She picked up a bottle of moonshine and held it out towards the man in front of her. If this place had as many bad memories as he had just said, he probably needed a drink just as much as she had.

“Unless you are too busy chaperoning, Mr. Dixon,” She added, this time with playful edge when she said his name instead of a taunting one, to show him that she wasn’t mad about his refusal earlier.

The blonde could see the conflict going on in Daryl’s eyes beneath his long hair. He shuffled a bit, seeming uncertain before finally reaching over taking the jar to Beth’s utter delight.

“Hell, might as well make the best of it,” he agreed, not sounding entirely positive he was making the right choice.

Beth gave him her biggest grin as he plopped down in the chair next to where she was sitting on the floor. Daryl unscrewed the lid, his arms flexing in a delicious way, which the young woman tried to ignore.

“Home sweet home,” Daryl toasted in a resigned tone that broke Beth’s heart, as he put the jar to his lips and took a swig.

She had wanted the older man to drink with her, but not like this. He sat in the ratty, old armchair, sipping the moonshine like it was water while staring off into space in front of them. Beth wanted to help, she wanted to pull Daryl out of whatever dark place he had gone off to but didn’t know how. With Maggie, it would have been easy, all Beth had to offer to do was listen and her sister would talk her ear off until she had gotten it all off her chest. With Shawn, it had been different. Her brother liked to take his mind off things by being busy. Whenever her brother wasn’t acting normal, Beth would ask him to help her with a chore or come riding on the trail with her, anything to get him out of the house.

Daryl was definitely more like Shawn than Maggie, Beth couldn’t even imagine trying to get the archer to actually talk about what he was feeling. Most of the time it seemed like a struggle to even get the hunter to talk about necessary things like where they were going to make camp or what they would eat. Daryl was a man of action, he seemed most at peace when he was busy killing walkers or fixing his bike, so doing something would probably be the best way to make him feel better.

Then, an idea popped into Beth’s head, one that would make Daryl do something and talk, without seeming too invasive. The blonde unloaded the crate of moonshine, setting each jar on the table before taking the crate and flipping it upside down in front of the archer’s feet. His eyes tracked her movements but her companion didn’t ask what she was doing. The young woman sat down across from him and placed her drink on top of the crate.

“Have you heard of Never Have I Ever,” she asked, ignoring the skeptical look being shot her direction.

Ever so slightly, Daryl shook his head no. He looked warily at her, as if expecting that he was about to get dragged into something he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“Well,” continued Beth, determined to draw the rough man out of his mood, “it is a drinking game.”

When the hunter just stared at her, she had to push some more.

“It will be fun,” She promised, “just one game and then I will let you drink in peace.”

Finally giving in, Daryl slid off the armchair and down onto the floor across from her.  He leaned his back against where his feet had formerly been and pushed one of his legs out haphazardly across the floor. The older man set his mason jar on the crate before looking over at her. The blonde gulped, not really expecting to suddenly have the handsome but intimidating man so close and at eye-level to her. The archer brought his hand up, running his fingers across his lips and beard in a very distracting way.

“So,” she began, trying to regain her train of thought, “first I say something I have never done and if you have done it, you drink and if you haven’t, I drink. Then we switch.”

Daryl just stared blankly at her like she was speaking another language.

“You really don’t know this game,” Beth blurted out, wanting him to do something other than just stare at her, it was putting her on edge.

Normally, Daryl avoided any sort of eye contact, except when he was mad in which case you didn’t want to be on the other end of his glare. The young woman had become used to his avoidance during a conversation, the little side glances that quickly fell away the moment she tried to return them. However, that was not the case right now. For the first time since she had met him, Beth thought she had Daryl Dixon’s full and total attention. His dark blue eyes pierced right through his shaggy hair, watching every move she made, as if he was sizing her up or trying to figure out what exactly her intention was in trying to talk to him.

“I never needed a game to get lit before,” Daryl drawled casually, his deep timber making Beth feel a tingle that had nothing to do with the moonshine.

“Wait, are we starting,” she asked, trying to recover from her increasingly distracted thoughts.

“How do you know this game,” the archer inquired, ignoring her question.

Beth began to feel like this was a bad idea, somehow it seemed like she was being interrogated more than she was getting Daryl to loosen up.

“My friends played it,” the blonde answered, noticing how Daryl’s left eyebrow raised slightly.

“I just watched,” she added quickly, not sure why she felt the need to explain herself, “Okay I will start. I’ve never shot a crossbow.”

She glanced back over to find the hunter still staring at her in an unnerving way, his pointer finger running up and down his thumb.

“Ain’t much of a game,” Daryl finally said, reaching for his jar.

Beth couldn’t help but smile, he was finally going along with this! She watched as he took a drink, enjoying the way his muscles moved when he swallowed.

“That was a warm up,” Beth insisted, feeling sure he wouldn’t back out now, “now you go!”

“I don’t know,” Daryl mumbled, hanging his head, as if he lacked confidence in his own ability to play a game.

“Just say the first thing that pops into your head,” Beth encouraged.

“I’ve never been out of Georgia before,” he finally answers, looking up at her with questioning eyes as if unsure if that is an acceptable response.

“Really,” Beth says, “Okay, good one.”

The blonde raises the bottle to her lips and takes a sip, she can already feel her brain starting to go a little fuzzy.

“I’ve never,” Beth tries to think of something and then glances down at the cup in her hand and finds inspiration, “been drunk and done something I regretted.”

Daryl plucks his jar up and takes a swig.

“I’ve done a lot of things,” he tells her, sharing despite explanations not being required for the game.

“Your turn,” Beth instructs, since the older man still seems very unsure of himself.

“I’ve never been on vacation,” he finally admits.

“What about camping,” she asks, hoping to catch archer and make him drink.

“No, that was something I just had to learn,” he answers, “how to hunt, how to make shelter.”

“Your dad teach you,” asks the blonde, who normally wouldn’t pry so much but the alcohol in her system was making her speak her thoughts.

“Mm-hmmm,” Daryl mumbles, confirming her guess.

The way he agrees and based on what he described about his father earlier, Beth can’t imagine learning to hunt with Daryl’s dad had been a fun experience. The archer looks pained again, the exact thing she was trying to make him forget back at the forefront of his mind.

“Okay,” she says trying to be as cheery as possible and change the subject, after she takes a sip from her cup.

“I’ve never…,” Beth begins, searching for the next thing and her mind flits back to her family at the prison, “been in jail before.”

“I mean, as a prisoner,” she explains, trying her best to make sense of what her jumbled brain is attempting to say.

When she looks back up, Daryl is still looking at her like he has been this whole time, but now there is a fire in his eyes and a certain tightening of his muscles that tell her something is wrong.

“Is that what you think of me,” he says slowly, as if mulling over every word.

“I didn’t mean anything serious,” Beth quickly tries to explain, desperately wanting to make him understand that she would never think badly of him“I just thought, like ya know, the drunk tank. Even my dad got locked up for that back in the day.”

“Drink up,” he commands her, an icy stare replacing the earlier fire.

“Wait,” she says, trying to change back to an earlier game, one that hadn’t made him as mad, “prison guard. Were you a prison guard before?”

“No,” he replies flatly, with a look that would terrify most people.

“It’s your turn again,” she says, not really knowing how else to fix the walls that Daryl is quickly putting back up.

Daryl stands up with a grunt and walks off.

“I’m gonna take a piss,” he informs her, as if that is a normal parting statement.

The blonde looks down at the drink in her hand, clutching the cup in desperation to somehow salvage the situation. Any idea of calming Daryl down flies out the window when she hears the tinkling sound of breaking glass and looks up to find that the archer had tossed his jar on the floor.

“You have to be quiet,” she reminds him, feeling a bit uneasy at having to inform her companion of one of the widest known rules of the apocalypse.

“Can’t hear you,” Daryl shouts, as he begins unzipping his pants in the back corner of the kitchen, “I’m taking a piss.”

Beth doesn’t need to see her face to know it is flushing a bright red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. Sure, she thought Daryl was attractive and had a number of thoughts about him that she probably shouldn’t, but the idea of him whipping his dick out right in front of her had the young woman all sorts of flustered. Luckily, he was turned away otherwise she didn’t know if she would have been able to speak.

“Daryl, don’t talk so loud,” the blonde attempted, trying to reason with her drunk companion.

The sound of liquid hitting the floor fills Beth’s ears and it is all she can do not to die of embarrassment.

“What are you my chaperone now,” barks the older man, turning around to look at her while he empties his bladder.

Beth’s eyes become saucers as his twisting causes her to see part of his cock, which is nothing at all like Jimmy’s, the only thing she has to compare it to. The archer’s is much bigger and thicker looking and just the sight of it has Beth tingling between her legs. However, her modest upbringing and the knowledge that if Daryl were sober he wouldn’t want her seeing him like this has her turning her head. After what seems like hours, she can finally hear zip of Daryl putting his pants back on.

“Wait,” he snaps, “It’s my turn right.”

The blonde feels like it is finally safe to look up and when she does her vision is filled with the archer buckling his belt back in place. Her head swims with both the alcohol and what seeing Daryl like this, even though the situation is completely not the least bit sexual, does to her.

“I’ve never,” Daryl begins, making his way back over to her, “…eaten frozen yogurt. Had a pet pony.”

The archer delivers these biting comments with his side to her, not facing her directly like he had been during their game.

“Never got nothin from Santa Claus,” Daryl continued, his voice raising as his hand hits at a chair.

“Never relied on anyone for protection before,” the archer adds, his comments containing more venom with each sentence, “Hell, I don’t think I have ever relied on anyone for anything before!”

“Daryl,” Beth tries to break his rant, feeling so bad that she set him off and that he was saying things he probably would never tell anyone if she hadn’t convinced him to drink.

“Never sung out in front of a big group out in public,” the gruff man shouts, bulldozing over her, “like everything was fun! Like everything was a big game!”

The way he is holding himself and snapping at her, Beth can’t help but compare him to a scared, abandoned dog, who barks and growls at anyone trying to help it more out of fear than actual anger.

“I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention,” he hollers, the anger coming off his body in waves.

Beth sucks in a breath of air like she had been punched. She knows he doesn’t mean it even as he says it, knows that if it weren’t for the alcohol and the stress of their whole situation he wouldn’t be trying to push her away by being a dick, but it still hurts. Yet, in some way it is also cathartic, because Beth has been tired of how everyone carefully ignores any mention of what she had done to herself, how they treat her like she might break if they say the wrong thing.

Right then, there is a bump against the trailer and from outside there is a growl, Daryl’s shouting had excited the walker.

“Oh, sounds like our friend out there is trying to call all his buddies,” mouths off the archer, kicking an old can and creating even more of a ruckus.

Beth is starting to become worried, not about their argument, but how she could possibly calm Daryl down enough to not draw a whole herd to their trailer.

“Daryl, just shut up,” she hisses, contemplating how likely she would be to succeed at getting the archer to be quiet if he didn’t want to be.

“Hey,” Daryl barks, after picking up his weapon and whirling around to face her, “ya never shot a crossbow before?”

The wild look in her companion’s eyes has Beth on edge, she can practically see bad ideas forming in his head.

“I’m gonna teach you right now,” he decides, stalking over to her and grabbing her arm, hauling her off the floor and out the door like she weighs nothing, “come on, it’s gonna be fun.”

Beth had wanted to learn to shoot his crossbow for a long time, but not like this. Things were really getting out of control. Sure, Daryl was an amazing fighter and had handled himself in many bad situations, but he was drunk, which meant his coordination and decision making would all be off. What should be one simple walker could easily turn into a death sentence for either of them.

“We should stay inside,” the young woman tries to reason with the hunter, her attempts at halting him were completely in vain though as he pulls her along, “Daryl! Cut it out!”

“Dumbass,” shouted Daryl when he catches sight of the walker, finally letting go of Beth’s wrist so he can grasp the crossbow, “come here dumbass.”

The blonde is now free to run back into the safety of the trailer but there was no way she is going to leave Daryl out here alone in his current state. Using a precision and skill that was even more impressive in his drunken state, the archer shoots a bolt, pinning the walker to a wooden pole. He swiftly bends down to notch the next one.

“Daryl,” Beth tries again as he reloads all too quickly.

“You want to shoot,” the older man offers, his breath coming in pants.

“I don’t know how,” Beth scrambles, trying to come up with an excuse, any excuse to get her drunken companion to stop and come back inside.

“Oh, it’s easy,” shouts Daryl, grabbing her around the shoulder, his hand drifting dangerous close to one of her breasts as he hauls her up against him and her whole back heats up with his warmth.

“Left corner,” comes the gruff bark in her ear, as the archer raises the crossbow up with one hand and takes aim, hitting his target.

Beth had to admit, she was impressed, not many people could have done that with both hands. She also didn’t mind how close they were pressing up against one another, but the situation made her unable to enjoy the rare contact.

“Let’s practice later,” she pleads, saying whatever she hopes would get him back inside.

“Come on, it’s fun,” the hunter disagrees, ignoring her as he reloads yet again.

“Just stop it,” the blonde yells desperately, running out of tactics and her head moving too slow to come up with any more, “Daryl!”

“Come ‘ere,” the archer growls, grabbing her shoulder and turning her until she falls back against his chest, where he loops one arm around her neck.

“Eight ball,” he slurrs, letting another arrow fly.

“Just kill it,” Beth screams, reaching the end of her rope with Daryl’s behavior.

There was no stopping Daryl though.

“Come here Greene,” the archer insists as he begins making his way towards the walker, “let’s pull these out, get ah little more target practice.”

Beth feels herself snap. She reaches down to her belt and pulled out her knife, striding fast to get ahead of the older man. Quickly, she burrows the sharp weapon into the walker’s skull, feeling the animated body go lifeless beneath her blade.

“What the hell you do that fer,” accuses Daryl, as he turns on her “I was havin fun!”

“No,” shouts Beth, feeling like she should reign in her emotions but they are like water, slipping through her fingers and unable to be held back, “you were being a jackass!”

This isn’t how she talks, but in that exact moment it didn’t matter. Beth wasn’t the good, straight-A student who went to church every Sunday. She was an 18 year old who had lost both her parents, her brother, and no longer knew what happened to her sister. All she had left was Daryl and if he kept this up something would happen to him too! She sure as hell wouldn’t want anyone treating them like this if they turned.

“If that had been my dad…”she begins, pointing at the walker she had just killed.

“Don’t,” snaps the archer, cutting her off, “that ain’t remotely the same!”

“Killing them is not supposed to be fun,” Beth hollers, refusing to back off and actually moving closer to the man she is arguing with.

“What do you want from me girl,” shouts Daryl, immediately surging towards her as she invades his personal space bubble, his eyes shooting fire and his jaw clenching, “hunh?”

Beth takes a few steps back but stops and finds to her surprise that Daryl does too. This give her confidence, reminds her that for all of Daryl’s barking, he at least won’t bite her.

“I want you to stop acting like you don’t give a crap about anything,” she exclaims, finally voicing what she had been wanting to say for a while now, “like nothing we went through matters! Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you!”

The way Daryl was holing everything up inside was unhealthy. She knew he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to show he cared, but she couldn’t let him do that to himself. The young woman had tried her best to help him let go with casual talking and games but apparently he required a more direct approach.

“It’s bullshit,” she screams, tired of acting like everything is okay.

“Is that what you think,” bites back Daryl, advancing towards her with narrowed eyes.

In the back of her mind Beth knows she should be intimidated, but she also knows Daryl would never hurt her. The archer had said some pretty horrible things to her, ignored her, and even screamed in her face, but never once had she felt truly scared of him, she trusted him.

“That’s what I know,” asserts the young woman, refusing to let the hunter win.

“You don’t know nothin,” Daryl immediately shoots back, almost more out of habit than actual animosity.

However, his words strike a cord in Beth because she often felt like she didn’t know enough to make it in the apocalypse. Her inadequacies were something that plagued her every single day. She isn’t a fighter like Daryl, a leader like Rick, a doctor like her father, or a survivor like Carol. However, she knows she isn’t a complete failure because anyone whom managed to survive this far should be damn proud of themselves!

“I know you just look at me and see another dead girl,” Beth replies in kind, remembering the conversation she had overheard back at the farm, “I’m not Michonne. I’m not Carol. I’m not Maggie. I survived and you don’t get it cause I’m not like you or them! But I made it and you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you are ….afraid!”

The moment the last word falls from Beth’s lips, she can sense Daryl firing up all over again.

“I ain’t afraid of nothin,” Daryl snarle at her, inches from her face, but for some reason it sounds like he is trying to convince himself more than her.

“I remember,” pushes Beth, who has always been able to read people’s emotions better than most, “when that little girl came out of the barn, after my mom.”

The archer turns away as if he won’t be able to hear her if he can’t see her. For once, Beth thinks that maybe she is getting through to him.

“You were like me,” insists Beth, “and now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close!”

“Too close, hunh” questions the older man, whirling on her, “you know all about that. You lost two boyfriends and can’t even shed a tear! Your whole family is gone and all you can do is go out lookin for hooch like some college bitch!”

“Screw you,” replies Beth in kind, finally giving up on trying to help Daryl work through his emotions, “you don’t get it!”

“No, you don’t get it,” snaps Daryl, a wild look filling his eyes, “everyone we know is dead!”

“You don’t know that,” shrieks Beth, hating how he is so ready to give up on their whole prison family.

“Might as well,” hollers the hunter, “cuz you ain’t never gonna see em again!

The blonde knows Daryl is just lashing out in fear and pain, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. She can feel her tears building and tries to blink away any signs of her distress.

“Rick,” continues the hunter, “You ain’t never gonna see Maggie again!”

“Daryl, just stop,” cries Beth, as she reaches for his arm, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and sob for the rest of the day.

“No,” he bellowes, yanking his whole body out from under her touch.

“The Governor rolled right up to our gates,” he continues, his back to her, when suddenly his voice changes from anger to desperation, “maybe if I hadn’t stopped looking…maybe if I hadn’t gave up! That’s on me!”

There it is, the real reason Daryl has been so withdrawn and angry. It had only taken days, a crate of moonshine, and a huge argument to get it out of him.

“Daryl,” Beth begins reaching for him, wanting nothing more than to ease his mind of any guilt he had wrongfully placed on himself.

“No,” he whimperes, drawing away, “and your dad! Maybe I could have done somethin!”

Beth can hear the way Daryl’s voice is breaking, she know he has his back turned from her for a reason. She can’t stand it though, the archer more than anyone else had done his best to keep them all safe, it isn’t right for him to pile all this blame on himself. The blonde didn’t know if she had ever seen someone so broken and her words were not getting through to him at all. That is when she knew what to do. The young woman steps forward and wraps her arms around the much larger, gruff man, holding him tight so he won’t pull away, to her surprise he doesn’t try.

Beth has hugged a lot of people, but never like this. Never had she felt like she was holding someone together to keep them from falling apart while at the same time clinging to them for dear life. The blonde presses her head between Daryl’s shoulders and shakes it back and forth, silently denying any of the responsibility the hunter felt he had for what happened back at the prison. She puts every bit of her love and sadness and respect into that one hug, holding him as hard as her arms will allow her to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed. The next chapter may be a while, I am busy the next few weeks but I will get it out as soon as possible.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, what I thought would be only a couple weeks turned out to be much longer due to unforeseeable events. I recently had many (good) changes in my life and it has taken a while for things to calm down enough for me to continue writing, but I have been thinking about the next for chapters for a while and am excited to get back to this story. I wrote this chapter from Daryl's POV since I followed the TV series fairly closely, I wanted to really get at what is going on in his head.

**Daryl’s POV**

             Daryl can count on one hand the number of times he had been hugged in his life. The first was by his mama when he was a little boy, before she started using a bottle to escape the reality of their home life. The second was by Merle after Daryl had been beat up by their old man for the first time. The third was by some strung out bitch at a bar his older brother had dragged him to, which made him wince to even remember. The fourth was by Beth, the night he told her Zach had died. Now, she was hugging him again, holding him together as he finally gave into his feelings of self-hate and regret in his drunken state. Beth Greene was the only person who had ever hugged him twice, the only person he had ever let hug him twice.

              He knew this wasn’t safe, standing there like waiting targets, while his vision blurred so bad he didn’t know if he could tell the difference between a walker and an actual human if they came at him right now.  It was official, he was a shit chaperone, not that he was ever really much of one to begin with, Beth didn’t listen to him half the time anyway. Thin, strong arms tightened around him, trying to comfort him even in the midst of her own grief. Why was it always like this? Right when he should be the one comforting her, after her boyfriend or dad died, she ended up being the one comforting him. Daryl let his hand raise up and clutch at one the wrists wrapped around his middle, holding her there like a lifeline. The sobs that racked his body shook her just as much as they shook him, but that only made her squeeze tighter.

              Slowly, the tears stopped and his breathing evened out. Daryl’s vision came back into focus and he was suddenly hyper aware of just how vulnerable they both were standing outside after they had made enough noise to draw any walkers within a mile radius. The archer used his shirt collar to rub the wetness from his eyes and coughed, trying to figure out how to extract himself from the blonde’s tight grip. However, Beth seemed to sense that he had reached his limit on physical contact and unwound her arms and stepped back from him.

              “Best head inside,” he said, his voice hoarse from yelling and crying, his face red with embarrassment at falling apart like he had.

              “Okay,” Beth whispered so softly he almost didn’t hear it.

              The hunter picked up his crossbow from his feet and carefully stared down at his feet, embarrassed to make eye contact with the blonde after what had just happened. The young woman stumbled after him, the moonshine obviously affecting her coordination, but she managed to make it up the steps into the shitty house without help.

              Inside, it was hot and smelled like piss thanks to his stupid drunk self. There was no wind to air the smell out and even if there had been, he had boarded the windows all up.

              “Definitely have gotten drunk and done things I regret,” Daryl thought, his mind wandering back to what seemed like forever ago when he and Beth were playing that damn game.

              He looked back to find Beth standing in the middle of the room staring despondently around her and knew that they couldn’t just sit here. Carefully, making sure to not startle the young woman after his outburst, Daryl picked his way through the shit and took her elbow, gently this time, leading them out to the porch. The archer sunk down, feeling all the energy go out of him as the alcohol buzz began slipping away. They both sat in silence, listening to the crickets and other wildlife. Not a single walker stirred, somehow they had gotten lucky enough not to attract any with all their commotion.

              Daryl felt like shit. He felt like his father, getting drunk and yelling at Beth who hadn’t done anything wrong. He wanted to open his mouth and apologize, tell her he hadn’t meant any of those thing he had said, but his mouth felt like it was full of lead. All the older man could do was shoot sideways glances at his companion as he tried to make words come to his mouth. None came.

              Finally, as the awkwardness had reached its peak, Beth stood up and went inside.

              “Damn,” Daryl thought, “gone and fucked this whole thing up. Girl prolly doesn’t even want to be around me now, can’t blame her.”

              However, he was surprised when she came back out the screen door holding a jar of moonshine. Girl just didn’t let anything stop her. The blonde caught his stare and turned, piercing him with those blue eyes of hers.

              “What,” she asked, as if threatening him to even try and take the jar away.

              “Nothin,” Daryl said, shrugging, he wasn’t even going to begin and try to tell her what to do after this afternoon had made it perfectly clear just how responsible he was.

              He pulled out his knife and began whittling away on the porch, carving little markings into the wood without any real intent other than to avoid the blonde’s gaze, which she had turned on him full force. It was unnerving how she just sat there staring at him like he was some fascinating creature. It made him feel restless to have so much attention focused on him. Daryl didn’t know if she was mad about what had happened earlier, thought less of him after seeing him break down, or was deciding it was his fault that the prison fell, he could never make sense of those looks she gave him.

              “I get why my dad stopped drinking,” she said suddenly and out of the blue.

              “You feel sick,” he asked hoarsely, raising his head to inspect the blonde.

              Beth didn’t look like she was about to throw up, but his eyes moved over her desperately, needing to make sure she was okay.

              “Nope,” she replied with a funny emphasis on the word that told Daryl she was still buzzed, “I wish I could feel like this all the time.”

              The archer managed to hold back a snort at the blonde’s comment, she was something else.

              “But that’s bad,” she said, slurring her words in a way that would have been funny if not for their whole situation.

              “Hmmm,” Daryl mumbled, going back to looking down at the porch, still feeling ashamed to even be in Beth’s presence after everything but too scared to let her out of his sight.

              “You’re lucky you’re a happy drunk,” he said wistfully, wishing he was more like her when he drank, feeling the guilt eating him up from the inside after everything he had said to her.

              “Yeah, I’m lucky,” retorted the young woman, still staring at him, “some people can be real jerks when they drink.”

              For just a millisecond, Daryl’s hand froze in mid-action of cutting up the floor of the porch. Quickly, he recovered and began making holes in the post railing by his knee, which allowed him to look in Beth’s general direction without looking directly at her.

              “Yeah,” he agreed, “I’m a dick when I’m drunk.”

              It wasn’t an apology, it didn’t even begin to cover all the horrible things he had said to her, things he shouldn’t have said no matter how drunk he was. However, when he finally gained the courage to move his eyes from his knife over to the blonde, she was smiling at him like he hadn’t just given her the shittiest apology possible. Her eyes held no judgement, no anger, she just stared at him like he wasn’t some redneck trash who had taken his problems out on her and put them in danger and then needed her to hold him together. It was a look that said he could trust her.

              “Merle had this dealer,” Daryl began, wondering even as he started the story if this was a mistake, “this janky little white guy. A tweaker.”

              Even through the moonshine buzz, all of Beth’s attention was focused on him, Daryl could tell. It was a bit unnerving, he had never had anyone really listen to him the way Beth does.

              “One day we were over at his house,” the archer continued, “watching TV. Wasn’t even noon yet, we were all wasted. Merle was high. We were watching this show and Merle was talking all this dumb stuff about it. And he wouldn’t let up. Merle never could.”

              Daryl can still remember that moment, hearing his brother’s taunts, seeing the anger build in the tweaker’s face, knowing that no matter what he said, nothing would shut his brother up.

              “Turns out, it was the tweaker kid’s favorite show,” the hunter explains, “and he never sees his kids, so he felt guilty about it or somethin. So he punches Merle in the face. So, I start hitting the tweaker, like hard, as hard as I can.”

              “Then, he pulls a gun and sticks it right here,” he says indicating to his own head with his fingers pointed in the shape of a gun, causing Beth’s eyes to widen.

              “He says ‘I’m gonna kill you, bitch’,” Daryl tells Beth, remembering the fear in his stomach at hearing those words and feeling the cold metal pressed up against his skull, “so Merle pulls his gun on him. Everyone’s yellin, I’m yellin. I thought I was dead…..over a dumb cartoon about a talkin dog.”

              Daryl suddenly feels himself backing out of his former decision to tell Beth about his past, to let her know what a total shit he was, what a shitty life he had. He drops his head, his fingers running over the marks he made in the wood.

              “How’d you get out of it,” asks Beth, sounding genuinely concerned

              “The tweaker punched me in the gut,” he spits out, putting to bed any thought the girl might have had that he had saved himself, that he was any sort of hero, “I puked. They both started laughing and forgot all about it.

              “Ya want to know where I was before all this,” Daryl says, looking into Beth’s eyes, wanting to see the way she looked at him like he was worth something one last time.

              “ I was just driftin around with Merle…,”he admits, swallowing down the pride he has felt from everyone from his prison family thinking he was somebody before the world went to shit, “doing whatever he said we were gonna be doing that day. I was nobody…..nothin. Some redneck asshole with an even bigger asshole for a brother.”

              Daryl can’t stand to look at Beth while the truth sinks in. He shakes his head and looks off into the woods which are quickly becoming dark as the sun sets. The archer had spent his whole life running from his past, trying to make a new life. Now, he realized he hadn’t been able to outrun it. It had caught up to him and now Beth would know who he really was and he felt like absolute shit. Shit that didn’t deserve to be talking to the sweet, blonde angel in front of him, much less being smiled at and hugged by her.

              “You miss him, don’t you,” Beth asked, her voice making him jump because he had expected accusations or disgust.

              Instead, the sweet little blonde thing was still worrying over him, even after how he had treated her and finding out that he wasn’t anyone worth caring about.

              “I miss Maggie,” Beth suddenly admitted and Daryl began to feel uncomfortable.

              He would do anything for Beth, he would keep her safe, hunt food for her, give her the very shirt off his back, but he didn’t know the first thing about comforting somebody.

              “I miss her bossing me around,” the blonde said with a chuckle, a slight grin peeking out from behind her pink lips, “I miss my big brother, Shawn. He was so annoying and overprotective….and my dad.”

              Daryl didn’t know what to say, so he just listened.

              “I thought,” she began but then stopped as if the wording wasn’t quite right, “I had hoped he would just live the rest of his life in peace, ya know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby….and he would get to be a grandpa…and we would have holidays and birthdays and summer picnics.”

              The way Beth talked about it, Daryl could practically see it. He could see Beth going to the extreme to plan an elaborate party (by apocalypse standards that is), to find little gifts they could scavenge, just to bring them all together as a family.

              “And he would get really old,” Beth continued with her fantasy, “And it’d happen, but it’d be quiet. It’d be okay. He’d be surrounded by people he loved.”

              Daryl would give anything to have made her dream come to life, if anyone deserved to have their dreams come true it was Beth. The girl didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve anything that had happened to her. It was like the world was playing some cosmic joke sticking her with his sorry ass.

              “That’s how incredibly stupid I am,” the blonde suddenly choked out, her wistfulness gone as she grabs the jar and takes swig.

              The archer’s eyes snap to hers, amazed that she would ever think such a thing. That Beth Greene would describe her love for life, her ability to keep hoping as stupid.

              “That’s how it was supposed to be,” Daryl assures her, wanting nothing more than for her to understand that she shouldn’t be ashamed.

              “I wish I could just change….,” Beth suddenly blurts out to his surprise.

              The older man is taken aback by the woman’s insecurity. It never occurred to him that someone as perfect as Beth would ever think they needed to change. Sure, she needed to learn a few more skills to survive in this world, but she had the most important things already. She was strong in a way he never could be. However, he remembers how she was on the farm, how she gave up for a little while, how she didn’t even know how to hold a knife right, how she was always letting that idiot Jimmy hang around her.

              “You did,” he promised her.

              “Not enough,” she replied, easily brushing off his assurance, “not like you. It’s like you were made for how things are now. I even could see the future coming and I still couldn’t change enough to handle it.”

              Daryl was shocked that Beth still thought he was somebody to look up to, somebody to be like, even after he had admitted to her he wasn’t at all who she thought he was.

              “I’m just used to it, things being ugly,” he explained, “growin up in a place like this.”

              “Well, you got away from it,” Beth stated firmly.

              The archer wanted to snort. It was amazing that Beth could even take him admitting he was a piece of shit and turn it around to seem like he had done something worthwhile. Sure he had gotten away from it, but it wasn’t his own doing at all. Daryl hadn’t wanted to change, hadn’t tried to be different, it had just happened by accident when he lost Merle and ended up with staying with Rick’s group out of a lack of better options. Even after everything he had been through, Daryl was still back at square one. He had failed his group, failed at being a good care-taker for Beth, gotten drunk, treated her like shit, and now was sitting on a porch that was the spitting image of the one he sat on as a child.

              “I didn’t,” he told her, hating himself even as he said it.

              “You did,” Beth immediately responded, glaring at him as if daring him to say otherwise.

              Something in her voice made Daryl believe it, or at least want to believe her words.

              “Maybe you got to keep on reminding me sometimes,” he hedged, tired of arguing but not really agreeing.

              “No,” the blonde said firmly, throwing his own words back at him, “you can’t depend on anybody for anything, right?”

              Daryl felt guilt claw at his stomach remembering how he had yelled at her.

              “I’ll be gone someday,” Beth continued, but he stopped her in her tracks.

              “Stop,” he interrupted, feeling his stomach drop at the thought of losing Beth.

              “I will,” she insisted, making him feel like throwing up all the moonshine he had just drunk.

              Beth had seen the future after all, maybe she knew her time was coming. Daryl was too horrified by the idea to even ask for confirmation of this.

              “You’re going to be the last man standing,” she prophesized.

              She looked at him like he should jump for joy or something but he only felt hollow. The last thing Daryl wanted was to be all alone, to deal with all this shit on his own. Maybe he was being selfish, maybe Beth would be happier if she died and went to heaven with all her other deceased family, but he wanted her here with him no matter how fucked up this world got. She was all he had left and if he lost her too Daryl didn’t know if he could stand it.

              “You’re gonna miss me so bad when I’m gone Daryl Dixon,” Beth told him.

              “You ain’t a happy drunk at all,” the archer whispered, horrified by what she was telling him and desperately hoping it was the alcohol and not her visions that were leading her to say these things.

              “Yeah, I’m happy, just not blind,” the blonde said nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just been speaking about her own death.

              “You got to stay who you are,” the young woman suddenly said with a ferocity that surprised him, “not who you were.”

              Daryl looked up to find Beth staring at him like he was someone worth being, worth caring about. After everything he admitted, she didn’t think any less of him and that shocked him to the core.

              “Places like this,” the blonde told him, waving her hand at the shack behind them, “you have to put it away.”

              “What if I can’t,” he asked, wishing it were as easy as she made it sound.

              “You have to,” demanded Beth, her voice strong and not allowing any arguments, “or it kills you!”

              “Here,” Beth explained, putting a hand over her heart with a loopy smile on her face.

              “Maybe she is more drunk than I originally realized,” thought Daryl with relief, hoping that this whole morbid conversation was just due to the strong liquor.

              “Maybe she won’t even remember this whole evening,” was his second thought, which made him both happy and sad.

              It had taken all of Daryl’s efforts to admit to Beth that he wasn’t anybody before the world turned, he didn’t think he could do it again. Even if he worked up the courage to admit his own worthlessness a second time, maybe without the buzz of alcohol, Beth would wise up and leave him. Maybe she wouldn’t stare at him like she was right now, telling him how he had changed and was better than who he used to be. His hands clenched his hunting knife, terrified at the thought of Beth coming to this realization in the morning when she was more lucid.

              “Maybe we should go inside,” he suggested, trying to change the subject.

              “We should burn it down,” Beth said with a smile on her face, as if she wasn’t discussing burning somebody’s house to the ground.

              Now Daryl was certain she was drunk as she began giggling at the thought of what she had just said. The archer sighed, none of this was real, nothing Beth had said was true, she was just drunk and spouting nonsense. The girl would come to her senses tomorrow and realize what a piece of shit he was. However, if that were true, if she was going to leave him once the moonshine was out of her system, Daryl wanted to make the most of his time with her. If that involved burning down this shack then so be it. Maybe he was still a bit more buzzed than he had originally thought.

              The hunter stood up, his joints aching with how long they had sat on the porch.

              “Gonna need more booze,” he told her and the light in her eyes when she realized he was gonna do what she wanted made him feel like a million bucks.

              It was that feeling that had him grabbing the jars of priceless alcohol and pouring them along the floor. He poured moonshine over the newspapers he had explained were like his internet in the shithole he had lived in. Daryl poured plenty over the ratty old recliner he had sat in not too long ago. The blonde squealed as she threw some on the living room walls, her energy was contagious. Soon, the house was drenched. Daryl didn’t want to stop even though the liquor was gone, he tossed the jars onto the ground, enjoying the way they tinkled when they hit the floor. How he wished he could have done this to his own childhood house.

              “Come on,” Beth encouraged, grabbing the edge of his vest and pulling him outside.

              Daryl pulled some scavenged wads of cash out of his pack and a lighter out of his pocket.

              “Ya wanna,” he offered and Beth’s smile let him know he had done the right thing.

              “Hell ya,” she said, her pretty mouth making the curse sound so good as she took the lighter from his hand.

              Soon, the dollars caught fire, making Beth’s face light up in broken flickers. The two stared at each other between the flames, both seeing each other as if for the first time. The hunter threw the wad onto the porch where it quickly caught fire between the moonshine and the old, dry boards. The two stood side by side, watching as the house slowly went up in flames. It felt good, so good it surprised him. Without another thought, Daryl scooped up the last jar of moonshine they had been planning on taking on the road with them and flung it into the fire, causing a burst of flames to leap up into the night sky.

              When he finally tore his eyes away from the bonfire, he found Beth standing next to him, proudly shooting the finger at their previous shelter. In that moment she looked so alive and young and happy and Daryl knew he would do anything to keep her that way. If he thought he was fucked before, he was certainly fucked now. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to make this girl smile like she was right now. Suddenly, she turned to him and gave him a playful push and nodded her head at the fire. Daryl moved his crossbow to his other hand and threw his own finger at the fire. There was something about Beth Greene that made him feel like he could do anything, like he could be someone better than he was.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was mostly Daryl's POV, this chapter was primarily Beth's POV. I have added some extra things to what happened between when they burned down the shack and when they arrived at the funeral home, but this in my mind is how they grew closer. No clue why sometimes it formats a paragraph indent and sometimes it doesn't.

**Daryl’s POV**

            When Daryl woke up in the morning, his head was throbbing like it always did after he drank too much. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting to experience the bright sunlight he could sense right beyond his eyelids. It felt like he was laying in the grass, in fact he could feel a couple of bugs crawling around on his body. None of this was too surprising, he was used to the feeling of being hungover and sleeping on the bare ground. However, he felt surprisingly warm and something smelled so good he wondered for a moment if he had died and gone to heaven. That wouldn’t make any sense thought because he doubted he would make it into heaven if such a place existed and even if it did, Daryl didn’t think you could be hungover in heaven.

              Slowly opening his eyes with a groan, Daryl took in his surroundings. He was laying under a tree and the midday sun was blinding him where it escaped through the branches of foliage. He turned his head stiffly to the side to take in more and instantly froze. Blonde hairs tickled his face from where Beth was fitted perfectly into his chest, her head lay on his left arm and his right one wrapped around her waist in a way that was far too intimate for the likes of him to be doing. Her back was pressed right against his stomach and he could feel every breath she took.

              He had to get out of this position before Beth woke up. He could already feel himself going red at the thought of the blonde knowing he had been cuddling her all night. God, he was such a fucking pervert, girl didn’t want some drunk redneck clinging to her while she slept. Beth deserved better than that. Right as he was removing his top arm, the blonde woke up, just as dazed and out of place as he had originally been. She gasped, initially threatened by her strange surroundings but when she rolled over and came face to face with him she immediately stopped squirming. The blonde’s face flushed a delicate pink and her mouth popped open into a small O shape. Daryl’s already flushed face went even redder as he scrambled out from beside her and stood up way to fast. The archer put his hand on the tree trunk, trying to steady himself as his head spun.

              “Didn’t mean ta…,” he started as his brain tried to formulate some plausible explanation for what just happened, “wasn’t like I….”

              “Fucking shit,” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hand as if he could push away his headache and the past several hours.

              He turned away from Beth, not being able to face the look of disgust that was surely on her face. His mind was quickly racing through what Beth’s father would think of him sleeping next to his innocent daughter, what Rick would say, what Maggie would say. The older man hung his head in shame and clenched his fists. Just as he was reaching the peak of his mortification, Beth spoke.

              “So this is what being hungover feels like,” the young woman moaned, holding her head and squinting up at him, not mentioning what had just obviously happened.

              Daryl breathed out, feeling like he had just gotten let off the hook.

              “Don’t go drinkin if ya can’t handle the consequences Greene,” he said gruffly, but she just smiled up at him, knowing he didn’t really mean it.

              “Yes Mr. Dixon,” she said, grinning over at him in a way that he would have taken to be flirtatious if he didn’t know better.

              The way Beth said his name like that, it did things to him, things that would be very obvious very quickly if he didn’t start thinking about walkers and guts and blood. The archer was suddenly very thankful for his hangover, which helped him calm his body down a lot faster than usual. The hunter shook his head, causing his long hair to slap his face before rolling his shoulders. He was feeling more himself by the time the young woman finished put her hair into a ponytail and shouldered her backpack.

**Beth’s POV**

              “Your turn,” offered Daryl, holding out his most prized possession to her while keeping eyes pointed just over her shoulder.

              Beth stared at him, she felt her mouth drop open but couldn’t seem to stop it. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to learn, she always had, it was just she never actually expected the rough hunter to let anyone else handle his favorite weapon.

              “Go on,” the older man encouraged, shoving it a little closer to her like it wasn’t a big deal, “told ya I was gonna teach you didn’t I?”

              “Yeah,” agreed Beth haltingly, “but you were drunk, I didn’t really expect you to give me lessons….I mean I want to learn…”

              “I’m a dick when I’m drunk,” Daryl told her, suddenly looking straight at her, “not a liar.”

Just as quickly, the archer shifted back to a less serious tone.

            You need to learn,” he reasoned, “if I get hurt you are going to be the one doing all the hunting. And I don’t want to eat shitty ass leaves and berries so you had better get good at it too.”

            “Yes Mr. Dixon,” Beth finally agreed, taking the crossbow carefully, but then more firmly as the full weight of the weapon was transferred to her.

             The whole morning, Daryl had talked to her about tracking and what to look for. He had gone over how to load the crossbow and how to aim, as well as the different environmental factors that could affect one’s aim. It was probably the most Beth had ever heard the taciturn man talk, however it was different than when they were drunk. Nothing he said was deeply personal, it was more like a strict lesson, but he was a surprisingly good teacher.

              The blonde guessed his sudden need to talk and explain the details of tracking came from wanting to avoid any conversation about this morning. Just the thought of it made Beth tingle, remembering how good it felt to be held by the very arms she had watched hoist a heavy crossbow all morning. However, she hadn’t said anything, not wanting to make Daryl defensive or feel awkward. She knew it didn’t mean anything, but a part of her really wished it did.

          “Raise it up and look down it,” Daryl commanded gently.

Beth did as she was told.

“Gotta spread your feet apart more,” her instructor commented, “gives you better stability when you shoot. Move your left hand out a little farther, helps you aim more accurately.”

The young woman adjusted accordingly before glancing over at Daryl, who was analyzing her stance in a way that almost made her think he was doing more than just checking her shooting form.

“Focus Beth,” she told herself, “this is important, can’t be daydreaming.”

“Alright,” came Daryl’s southern drawl, “now find some tracks.”

The blonde let the weapon fall down by her side but kept her hands in position so she could easily raise it up again if the need arose. She began stepping carefully through the forest, trying to imitate how she had watched the hunter move all morning. It was frustrating, the archer moved so effortlessly, like he was a part of the forest. Yet, every step she took seemed to make some small noise, whether it was a rustle of leaves or a small snap of a stick. She certainly wasn’t loud, but in the mostly quiet forest every small sound seemed to be exceedingly obvious.

They walked for about an hour. Beth kept missing tracks that Daryl would point out after they had passed them. Every time he would call her attention to the almost imperceptible prints, but then make her keep going to find her own. To add to the difficulty of the task, her instructor kept moving in close, so close that she felt like her whole back was on fire with the proximity. Beth assumed Daryl was doing it to see things from her perspective and to talk quietly, but it made it hard to focus. Just as the young woman was getting frustrated, she finally made out a disturbance in the ground. It wasn’t much, slight indents in the soil, flattened grass, occasionally a broken branch, but it was something.

When Beth pointed the prints out to Daryl, he just nodded in affirmation, which for him was practically praise. After they had followed the prints a good distance, Beth finally broke the silence.

“Are we close,” the young woman asked impatiently.

“Almost done,” came Daryl’s gruff rumble from right behind her.

“How do you know,” she questioned, as she raised the crossbow to be ready for whatever it was they were tracking.

“The signs are all there,” the hunter explained, “just got to know how to read them.”

“What are we tracking,” she whispered, her eyes glancing down and then back up again, trying to figure out what Daryl could see that she couldn’t.

“You tell me,” her companion challenged.

Beth dropped the crossbow and gave Daryl an exasperated look. Sometimes the hunter was helpful, other times he could be so frustrating. The blonde had just started learning, how was she supposed to know what she was tracking?

“You are the one who wanted to learn,” was the only result Beth’s hard glare got her.

“Well,” the young woman began, as she bent down, staring hard at scattered leaves, “something came through here. The pattern is all zig-zaggy….”

“It’s a walker,” she suddenly exclaimed, all the hints finally clicking in her head.

“Maybe it’s a drunk,” Daryl shot back, but she could tell he was proud.

“I’m getting good at this,” Beth taunted, “pretty soon I won’t need you at all.”

She was kidding of course, but the blonde almost thought she heard slight pain in Daryl’s voice when he spoke next.

“Yeah yeah,” he mumbled, “keep on trackin girl.”

Beth was about to tell Daryl she had only been joking when suddenly she heard the sound of snapping branches. Without being told, the blonde raised the crossbow and pointed it in the direction of the tracks. She hadn’t even realized it, but as she had gotten the weapon up Daryl had moved right in behind her, literally only a couple of inches away. His breathe tickled her hair as they moved quickly but quietly forward. Finally, a walker came into view. It had been a man, but now it was just a tattered corpse feeding on some dead forest creature. The walker was focused on its meal and not paying any attention to them. If it wasn’t for the gun on the walker’s hip, they could have just left it there and walked around.

“Daryl,” Beth murmured quietly, “it’s got a gun.”

She looked back to find him right behind her shoulder. The archer nodded at her and thrust his head forward, wanting her to get some practice. The blonde was terrified, but also excited. She had killed walkers before, but this was her first time with a crossbow. The archer made Beth feel safe though, no matter how terrifying things were. He was right behind her, ready to help if she messed up. That thought had Beth stepping forward and focusing her sight down the end of the crossbow, which was aimed at the walker’s head.

She heard the noise before she processed the pain. A metal clank filled the formally quiet air and then an intense pain blossomed in her ankle, causing the blonde to grunt in agony. There was no time to focus on her injury though, the commotion had caused the walker to drop its prey and it was turning towards her, its dead hands reaching out for her. The undead man stumbled closer and Beth’s survival instinct kicked in. The pain in her ankle suddenly became distant and her eyesight narrowed in on the walker. The young woman raised the crossbow, aiming with gritted teeth before pulling the trigger. To her dismay, the arrow hit the walker in the mouth, missing the brain. The creature continued to shamble closer, its throat making gurgling noises in excitement.

Suddenly, the crossbow was torn out of her grip and Daryl was between her and the diseased corpse. Using his most precious weapon like it was a hammer instead of a finely tuned instrument, the hunter swung the side of the crossbow into the walkers head, killing it instantly.  Throwing the weapon on the ground like it wasn’t the main thing keeping them both alive, the older man immediately was at her side, his hand on the metal trap around her ankle. Grabbing the dangerous rusty teeth with both hands, Daryl pulled the contraption off in seconds, causing his hands to get pierced to the point of bleeding in a couple of places. However, the archer clearly wasn’t interested in his hands, which had already thrown away the trap and were on her boot.

“Can you move it,” he asked, staring at her with an amount of concern that would have better suited a bite or a mortal injury.

              Beth flexed her foot, breathing heavily with the pain that shot up her leg, but happy to see it wasn’t broken.

              “Yeah,” she breathed, realizing her whole body was shaking with adrenaline and fear.

              Daryl seemed to realize it too as the boot in his hand shook ever so slightly.

              “It’s okay now,” the hunter said, looking straight at her, “ain’t nothing going to get you.”

Beth nodded, her eyes tearing up but she managed not to cry.

“You did good,” Daryl told her firmly and only then did she realize that she wasn’t the only one shaking, the hands on her boot were trembling too, “you focused on shooting that walker even when you were in pain. Can’t teach stuff like that. I can teach you how to track and how to shoot, but wanting to survive, that comes from you. You said you wanted to change, I’m telling you that you have changed.”

The blonde couldn’t take it any longer, she launched herself into Daryl’s arms, as awkward as it was with her one leg splayed out and the archer unable to balance due to him kneeling unsteadily on the ground. Beth expected him to push her away, to tell her to stop being such a wimp, but instead his strong arms wrapped around her, as if he was protecting her against the world. After a few moments, Daryl withdrew and the blonde respected his space and let go.

“Can ya stand,” the archer asked, offering his arm to help her get up.

The blonde wanted to do anything but stand up, but staying seated wasn’t really an option. She nodded, gritting her teeth as she reached for his hand and he half-hauled her up off the ground. Beth brushed the leaves off her and tried to take a step forward. Immediately, her ankle began protesting. The blonde wanted to cry, she felt so vulnerable out here in the woods with a bad ankle. It was hard enough to survive when she was in top form. Daryl must have seen the emotions boiling in her eyes because he immediately put a stop to them.

“It ain’t broken,” he told her firmly, “it is going to heal, we just have to find somewhere you can rest for a few days.”

“Daryl,” Beth breathed heavily, feeling like she was starting to panic, “there is nowhere to rest, we are in the middle of the woods and if something happens….I can’t keep up, I’m just going to slow you down….I’m sorry…”

“Stop,” he growled, glaring at her with enough intensity that the silent sobs beginning to rack her body actually halted, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you Beth. We are going to find a place and you are going to rest your ankle and as soon as it is healed you will be running circles around me and finding your family and all that other shit you talked about. Right? Now you just have to trust me to find a place. Ya trust me?”

Beth didn’t have to think twice, if Daryl said he was going to find them a place then he was going to find them a place. She nodded, feeling herself shifting from panic mode into action mode.

The redneck picked up his crossbow and began looking around, seeing things that were invisible to Beth’s eyes. First, he went to the dead walker and took the gun, handing it to Beth to stow on her belt. Then, his eyes narrowed and he started walking, slowly to allow her to keep up, but obviously with some plan in mind. The blonde limped along behind him, trying her best to stay quiet but also struggling to keep up. If she had thought it was hard to walk without making noise before, now it was almost impossible.

Every time they heard a moan, Beth’s heart stopped. She was so sure they would run into too many walkers and that would be the end of her. However, each time it was only one or two and Daryl made quick work of them before drifting back to lead her through the forest. As time passed, her ankle became more swollen, it was getting harder and harder to take each step. The hunter glanced back more frequently and slowed his pace but it was clear they needed to move faster since the sun was starting to begin its descent out of the sky.

“Here,” Daryl rasped, coming back to her side and draping one of her arms over his shoulders.

Beth gratefully clung onto the archer, relieved to keep some of her weight off her injured foot. Daryl’s shoulders felt so strong and sure, there was something so powerful about the man that made him seem like he could carry the world on his shoulders. However, Beth now knew that wasn’t true. Daryl was just as human as the rest of them, he had his own fears and problems and regrets and pains.

Just when Beth thought she couldn’t walk another step, the forest cleared to show a house surrounded by headstones. The blonde wanted to sob with relief, but she was so emotionally spent and physically exhausted that she couldn’t even gather enough energy to do that.

“Can we hold up a sec,” the blonde asked, finally feeling safe enough to ask to rest.

“You all right,” came Daryl’s concerned drawl from above her as Beth tried to readjust her boot, but nothing would make it feel right with how much her ankle had swollen.

“I just need to sit down,” Beth explained, not wanting to worry him but also feeling like she was at her limit.

The older man gazed off at the house that was so close, it was clear he wanted them in it and locked up as soon as possible. He looked back at her, she could practically see the wheels in his mind turning.

“All right, hold up,” he agreed, adjusting his crossbow over his back so that it was hanging in front of him.

Then, the older man moved around to her side and bent over.

“Hop on,” Daryl said, holding his arms out to grab her legs.

The blonde couldn’t help but stare. She wondered if her exhaustion was making her hallucinate. Before today, Beth couldn’t recall Daryl ever wanting someone in his personal space, at least not when he was conscious and coherent, so the moonshine shack and the night they spent sleeping on the ground didn’t really count. The blonde assumed she had already been pushing the archer’s limit by holding onto his shoulder all day, not to mention he must be exhausted too, but now he was offering to carry her.

“Are you serious,” she had to ask, unsure if this was some kind of joke.

“Yeah,” he told her, squinting at her as if he wished she wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it, “this is a serious piggyback. Jump up.”

Beth hesitantly jumped on Daryl’s back, almost expecting him to change his mind the moment she did. However, the archer didn’t do anything other than hoist her up a bit further and make some comment about her being heavier than she looked, which Beth knew was just his way of covering up his embarrassment of doing something nice.

The older man’s hands were warm and felt good on Beth’s thighs. Her face was being tickled by his long brown hair and she could hear his heavy breathing as they made their way through the cemetery. Beth put her head on Daryl’s shoulder, next to his own head and looked around. The grass wasn’t overgrown, the tombstones looked to be in good shape and some might have even been new. There was no way it was like this without somebody tending to it.

“Maybe there are people there,” Beth contemplated, looking up towards their destination.

“Yeah, if there are, I’ll handle them,” the archer rumbled protectively, his voice causing vibrations in his chest which Beth could feel.

“There are still good people Daryl,” the young woman insisted, although she knew he had good reason to think what he did about strangers.

“I don’t think the good ones survive,” came his answer, which brought a frown to Beth’s face.

It was one thing to know there were bad people, to be wary of strangers in order to stay safe, but it was another to quit trusting anyone. The people from their group were good people and Beth had to believe there were more like them out there. Just as Beth was thinking about how to help Daryl see how important having hope was, something caught her eye and had her sliding off the hunter’s back.

It was a tombstone. It wasn’t particularly new or big or fancy, but what caught her eyes were the words inscribed in it. She knew she was a fool for staring, for wasting valuable time wishing that this could have been her father’s grave, but when she read the words “Beloved father” something had just made her stop. The blonde expected Daryl to berate her, to tell her they needed to hurry up and get inside. Instead, the archer picked some wildflowers and laid them on the tombstone. It was funny how one second the redneck could be so pessimistic about the whole world and then the next be doing something so sweet and thoughtful that his own actions proved that there were still good people out there, that he was in fact one of the best.

When the older man returned to her side, Beth slide her hand into his, not even pausing to think about if she should or not. The blonde had clung to him all day, even been riding on his back, holding his hand seemed minor in comparison.

“Before everything changed, I heard a person give a talk at a funeral,” Beth suddenly found herself saying, “he said that when someone we love dies, they don’t actually go away, they stay right here walking beside us, that they are a part of us.”

Beth hadn’t really expected Daryl to answer, but suddenly he cleared his throat and was talking.

“Somedays I think I can still hear Merle talking to me,” he told her, then he snorted, “somedays I wish he would shut up. He was always such a fuckin dick, not like he was worth listening to when he was alive, don’t know why I would once he is dead. After everything he did to Maggie, to Glenn, to you…..don’t know why I even care.”

“You don’t have to pretend Daryl,” Beth mused, “you can be mad at someone, you can disagree with the life choices they made, and still miss them. That is just how love works.”

The archer shrugged and looked off towards the house, obviously not wanting to continue the conversation at the moment.

“Ready to go,” he finally asked, unwinding his hand from hers and turning around so she could jump on his back again.

“Yeah,” Beth agreed, jumping as high as she could with one foot.

Daryl carried her all the way to the front porch of the funeral home. The house was white with an unpainted porch and the windows were already boarded up. When Daryl had made it up the steps, he finally let her down. The blonde landed unsteadily on her feet but quickly righted herself.

“Take out your gun,” Daryl told her, “be ready, if something happens, don’t stop and try to help me, just worry about getting yourself out of here.”

Beth nodded, knowing she wasn’t much help with her ankle and feeling frustrated that she couldn’t be relied on for backup. The redneck took the crossbow off and brought it up before opening the door to the funeral home, which was unlocked. The archer scanned the immediate area and finding nothing of danger, knocked on the door frame.

“Give it a minute,” Daryl told her and both of them waited to see if there would be any sound of the undead or the living.

Finally, he decided it was safe and stepped into the house, Beth following behind him. The walls inside were plastered with an old print and the furniture looked antique, but it was all clean and well taken care of.

“It’s so clean,” Beth commented, suddenly feeling like she would sully the house with all the grime on her.

“Yeah,” agreed Daryl, “somebody’s been tending to it.”

“They may still be around,” he said warily, looking cautiously into the kitchen and then back down the hallway, as if expecting to get jumped any second.

Beth knew she should be on guard, but for some reason this whole situation had her relaxed. She couldn’t imagine someone bad tending to a cemetery and keeping the funeral home clean. Something had obviously caught Daryl’s attention as he made his way into a room. Beth hobbled along behind him to find the hunter staring down into a casket. The archer reached out to run a finger along the face of the corpse laying on the clean white pillows, his fingers came away with makeup, exposing a walker’s decomposed face beneath.

The older man snorted and walked off, but Beth couldn’t tear her eyes away. She knew now that whoever lived here, they were good people. They still saw humans inside of the shambling corpses and had obvious tried to do what was right to the undead they found. The blonde got moving when she heard Daryl walking down the hall, she didn’t like being too far away from him. The archer opened a door and cautiously went down the steps. Beth had trouble following but the handrail helped.

When she got to the bottom, there was another male corpse, dressed in a nice suit and obviously being prepared for burial in a similar manner to the one on the main floor. However, whoever had been working on redoing the man’s face had only finished about half of it.

              “Let’s get that ankle wrapped,” came Daryl’s rough voice, focused on her injury, practical as ever.

              However, Beth was still amazed by the man on the table. Whoever had done this had done a really good job. Not only were they good at covering up the injuries and decay on the face, they obviously had wanted the people to look good, as if the family were actually going to see them.

              “Looks like somebody ran out of dolls to dress up,” observed Daryl derisively, glaring down at the corpse as he bit into a package of athletic wrap.

              “It’s beautiful,” disagreed Beth, “whoever did this cared.”

              She would have loved if her daddy had been found by this person. If this mysterious funeral caretaker had been able to do this for her mother or her brother, it would have meant the world to her.

              “They wanted these people to get a funeral,” she continued, “they remembered that these things were still people, before all this.”

              “They didn’t let it change them in the end,” Beth said with a feeling of guilt.

              As much as she wanted to change, as happy as she was when Daryl had said she had changed, she didn’t want to lose what was most important to her. The blonde wanted to do what needed to be done to survive, but she didn’t want to become uncaring or cold. As much as she admired Michonne and Maggie and Daryl, Beth didn’t want to be just like them. She didn’t want to pretend like she didn’t care or that the walkers were just monsters or that all people were bad. The young woman understood why they did it, how it made it easier to survive, she didn’t blame them for it, it just wasn’t who she was.

              “Don’t you think that is beautiful,” Beth asked, finally looking up to find Daryl hanging his head like a scolded dog.

              However, when he noticed she was watching, he raised his head and stared at her with an unfathomable look in his eyes. Something told her his thoughts were on elsewhere than the corpse on the table.

              “Come on,” he said after a moment, gently taking her arm and leading her to the counter.

              Beth hopped up on the counter and let Daryl take off her left boot in his capable hands. She flinched when he started to take her shoe off and the blonde saw the way Daryl’s whole body tensed.

              “Sorry,” she apologized, “it’s just really sore, keep going.”

              The archer relaxed slightly, but moved more slowly. Bit by bit, he worked her boot off and then carefully peeled her sock down to expose her swollen joint. With care, the older man worked the bottom of her jeans up to her calf, allowing him to see her ankle better. The hunter’s callused hands ran lightly along her bare skin, prodding and testing but never too hard. The blonde would have thought that his touch would be rough, forceful, but just like the rest of him, she was finding that he was much gentler than she had originally thought.

              “Ain’t too bad,” he diagnosed, “prolly just sprained, need to wrap it up and stay off of it for a few days.”

              “Yes Dr. Dixon,” Beth laughed lightly, causing him to roll his eyes at her.

              Ignoring her comment, Daryl took the athletic tape and began to gently but firmly bind her ankle, wrapping the tap in such a way that it supported her weight but didn’t cause her to lose too much flexibility. She realized with sadness that this sort of expertise could only come from practice and she hated to think of the reason why he had had to do this so often. When he finished putting her sock back on and looked up from his work, he caught her staring down at him. Instantly, as if catching himself, he stood up and backed off.

              “Come on Greene,” he ordered, walking off with her boot in his hand, “I need to set up an alarm system and I ain’t gonna leave ya down here by yourself, want you where I can see you until I’m sure about this place.”

              Yes, there certainly still were good people left.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I started writing in Daryl's POV and planned to changed to Beth's but I never did. There is something about writing Daryl's POV that is so much fun because so often he doesn't say what is in head and you can only know what he is thinking if things are in his perspective. And just so y'all know, I plan to finish this story, but my life is chaos right now, so sometimes it may take a while for me to post, but I promise, I will get to the end. I already have an idea in mind of how the rest of the chapters will go, I just need time to actually write them, so stick with me and I appreciate the positive feedback and support!

**Daryl’s POV**

              Things had been going well. Beth had been resting her ankle, they had discovered a stash of food in the kitchen at the funeral home, and Daryl had gotten a couple of rabbits. Overall, a pretty good week. The archer got nervous leaving Beth alone at the funeral home, he never went hunting too far away for fear that something would happen while he was gone. However, today he had gone a little further and it paid off.

As he made his way out of the forest, his eyes landed on the lithe figure sitting beside a tombstone. He could feel the anger and fear building in his chest. He had very explicitly told Beth to stay inside while he was gone, girl never fucking listened to him. However, the growing storm disappeared when he saw what she was doing. The blonde had a chisel and hammer in her hand and had obviously been working on a couple of the blank tombstones. To the blonde’s right one said: Hershel Greene, beloved father and husband, 1948-2012. The one she was currently working on said: Merle Dixon, beloved….and that was as far as Beth had gotten. When she heard his footsteps, the young woman looked up and gave him a grin that made him want to check behind him and see if she was really smiling at someone else.

“Look Daryl,” she told him, “I know this isn’t as good as an actual funeral, but it is something. I think it is good to have a place to remember them, they deserved to have a place, even if we don’t have their body….its important.”

The archer wasn’t about to argue with Beth, if she said it was important, then it was important. On his own, Daryl never would have thought about making a headstone for his brother, a marker to memorialize Merle’s life, but now that there was one, he was glad. It felt like the right thing to do, even though he of all people knew how little Merle probably deserved it. The hunter looked down at the blonde happily chipping away at the stone as she hummed some song and everything just felt right. It was weird because Beth was still healing from her injury, they had lost their whole family, and the pair of them were alone in the woods, constantly in danger, but he felt more at peace than he ever had his whole life.

The hunter began skinning and gutting the rabbits nearby, so that Beth wouldn’t be outside alone and unprotected. He enjoyed listening to her humming, it stilled his nerves. The only time she stopped was to ask him what year Merle was born, then the young woman went back to work. It must have hurt her hands to work that hard, but he never heard her complain or saw her falter. She was stronger than she looked. It was almost dark when she finished, but by then Daryl had the rabbits all cut up and ready to be made into stew. Beth took the meat inside while he adjusted their noise trap around the house, resetting a section that had fallen down.

When he went inside, there was music playing. At first Daryl thought Beth had found some CD and a player with batteries, but then he realized that the young woman herself was playing the piano and singing.

“Pine for summer,” came the melodic voice as it resounded softly throughout the house, “then we’ll buy, a beer to shotgun.”

The archer stepped carefully down the hall until he was at the doorway to the room Beth was playing in. The young woman’s head was partially bent down staring at a music book, which was nothing more than meaningless symbols to Daryl. Her blonde hair flowed down her back and her braid stood out among the soft golden waves. Beth’s hands flew gracefully over the piano keys and Daryl felt like he was getting some rare, forbidden glimpse into Beth’s life, into who she was, into who she would have been if the end of the world hadn’t happened. He had never had moments like this, even before the world ended, maybe that was why this one was so special, even if belonged to someone else.

“We’ll lay on our lawn,” she continued singing, her voice sounded better than anything he had ever heard on the radio, “and we’ll be good…”

Beth was good at singing, if she had had the chance, she might have really become somebody. Daryl had never had anyone sing for him, his mother had always been too drunk or high and the idea of Merle singing was outlandish. Not that she was singing for him, she didn’t even know he was there. Suddenly, Daryl felt self-conscious, like he was some sort of creeper watching the girl play piano without her knowing he was there. He cleared his throat, causing Beth to jump and stop playing. He immediately missed the sound of her voice. The blonde’s big blue eyes were on him and he felt put on the spot, like he was supposed to do more than just declare his presence in the room.

“Place is nailed up tight,” he came up with, trying to stick to practical topics as he set his crossbow on the decorative couch in the room that probably wasn’t mean to do anything other than look pretty, “only way in is through the front door.”

Beth’s eyes followed him as he moved about the room, trying to find a way to feel comfortable. His eyes landing on the casket and the pillows and soft material lining it. Without thinking about it too much, Daryl heaved himself up onto the resting place and sat down.

“What are you doing,” asked Beth’s sweet voice, staring at him incredulously.

“This is the comfiest bed I’ve had in years,” he said as he laid down, enjoying the way her eyes widened even more.

Ever since Daryl was a kid, he had hated anyone looking at him. He had learned it was best to fly under the radar, to avoid catching anyone’s attention, because if he did it was always the wrong kind of attention. Even once he was older and didn’t have his dad to beat him up or the older kids at school to pick on him, he still liked to blend into the background, stay out of the spotlight. There was always someone looking to hurt him, mostly because Merle had gotten them both in trouble. It felt safe and comfortable to be unnoticed, but lately with Beth he was finding he didn’t mind that she watched him, that she noticed what he was doing, he actually kind of enjoyed it.

“Really,” asked Beth in disbelief.

“I ain’t kidding,” Daryl swore as he settled in, adjusting his head on the pillow.

It sure was heaven laying in this compared to the hard forest floor. When Daryl looked over Beth was still staring at him, as if she was trying to decide if she should take him seriously or not.

“Why don’t you go ahead and play some more,” he requested before he even realized what he was saying, “keep singing.”

“I thought my singing annoyed you,” Beth asked simply and Daryl’s mind flashed back to when he had yelled about how she would sing in front of a big group like everything was fun and games.

“There ain’t no jukebox, so…,” Daryl shrugged, unable to say what he really felt but luckily Beth seemed to understand.

The little grin on her face was enough for him to know he had said the right thing. The young woman turned around and began to play.

“And we’ll buy, a beer to shotgun,” she sang, “We’ll lay in the lawn, and we’ll be good. Now I’m laughing at my boredom, and my string of failed attempts….”

The hunter stared up at the ceiling, bathed in the candlelight as his thoughts began drifting around. This place was good, Beth was safe here, and he liked it here. Never in his life had anywhere he had lived felt like a home, as good as the prison was, he still slept away from everyone else, kept his distance. Living here with Beth was different, he was happy, he belonged in a way he never had before.

However, he knew the young woman wanted to find her family. He looked over at her playing, the way the candlelight made her hair glow golden and her rosy cheeks to show. She looked happy enough, he wanted her to be happy. Daryl didn’t want to keep her here if that wasn’t what she wanted. Sometimes though, the way she smiled and looked at him made him think that maybe she didn’t mind being stuck here with an old redneck like himself, maybe she actually liked his company.

              “Tomorrow,” he told himself, “tomorrow you will ask her and if she doesn’t want to stay here, then that is that and we will move on. Don’t expect her to want to stay, that would be unfair. Unlike you, she has a family, a sister who cares about her, she has better things to do than stick around here playing house.”

              Before Daryl even realized it, Beth had finished the song and made her way over to him.

              “Goodnight Daryl,” she told him sweetly, leaning down to kiss his forehead, as had quickly become custom over the past week, “don’t stay in there all night, there is a perfectly good couch, or we can switch and you can use the bed.”

              “Naw,” he declined like he did every time she tried to offer him the only bed in the house, “I’m fine here, go on and get some sleep.”

              “Just, don’t like sleeping without you close by,” Beth suddenly admitted, looking down with a slight flush to her cheeks, “doesn’t feel safe, I wake up worried about where you are.”

              Daryl understood, he didn’t like it either, but it just didn’t feel right to sleep in the same room as Beth, even if he stayed on the floor while she slept in the bed. Honestly, he didn’t get much sleep, he was constantly running upstairs to check that she was still sleeping safely in her bed, but he didn’t trust himself to be near her all night. The archer had enough trouble keeping his eyes and hands off her during the day, the past week he had already been failing, finding excuses to touch her more and more often. For example, one time when she was limping down the staircase for breakfast he had set for them, he had suddenly declared she wasn’t moving fast enough and had scooped her into his arms, carrying her down to the kitchen as she laughed happily against his chest. Never had Beth shied away from his touch, she actually seemed to welcome it, but she didn’t realize just how dirty his thoughts and feelings were and Daryl was determined to keep it that way.

              “I’m right here if you need me,” he promised her, feeling a pain in his chest at the disappointment in Beth’s eyes, but he was doing the right thing, he was sure of it.

              “Alright,” the blonde said dejectedly, before heading upstairs.

              Girl was just clinging on to him because he was the only person around, because he could protect her. As much as she wanted to be near him, Daryl couldn’t take advantage of the fact that she was feeling vulnerable and afraid ever since what happened at the prison. At some point they would find others or Beth would get over being afraid and become confident in defending herself and realize she didn’t want some gruff hick hanging around her all the time. This was for the best.

              Daryl got up off the casket and made his way to the couch, which had been his bed for the past few weeks. Just as he was getting settled in, footsteps told him Beth was coming down the stairs. He immediately sat up, ready to fix whatever was wrong. Maybe the girl needed pain meds for her ankle, maybe she wanted her foot wrapped again, he was racking his brain trying to figure out what he could do for her when she appeared with her pillow and several blankets in her hands.

              “If you are too stubborn to stay in the bed,” she told him, “I guess I’m just going to have to stay down here.”

              “And don’t even think about protesting this,” Beth added as an afterthought, causing him to close his already open mouth “it isn’t safe being apart, it is better to be right here where we can both see each other. That is what we all did after the farm, when we were on the road, we all stayed together.”

              Daryl didn’t argue, he just nodded and watched as the young woman made herself comfortable on the loveseat next to his couch. Not only had Beth given a logical reason for this sleeping arrangement, he already felt better and more relaxed knowing she was right there. For the first time in a while, he fell asleep without waking up throughout the night.

              When Daryl finally awoke in the morning, he felt more rested than he had in a long time. Beth was still asleep, her blonde hair fanned out on her pillow and her pretty face relaxed, without a care in the world. The hunter didn’t want to wake her up, she looked so content, but there were things to get done. He got out of bed, picked up his crossbow and walked over to the loveseat. Gently, the archer nudged the sleeping woman on the shoulder with a part of his weapon.

              “Burning daylight,” he told her, loving the way she opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times before focusing on him, “your ankle should be healed enough, figured we should continue your training.”

              “I can come hunting with you,” asked Beth, suddenly wide awake and sitting up with a huge grin on her face, looking like he had just given her the best present in the world.

Eight hours later

              Daryl gripped his crossbow tighter, as if the action would somehow make the sound of splashing go away. All he had to do was turn his head and he would be able to see Beth’s body as she bathed in the river, but of course he wasn’t going to do that. Instead, he was going to keep squeezing his crossbow to death and staring at the ground like it was his life’s mission. Occasionally, he allowed his eyes to dart up and scan their surroundings, before quickly returning them to a pebble in front of his feet.

              “It feels so good to get clean,” came the young woman’s ecstatic voice, followed by the sound of water being poured, “you have got to take a turn after me!”

              “Just hurry up girl,” Daryl managed to grunt out, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

              The last thing in the world he needed right now was a bath. What Daryl needed was for Beth to hurry the fuck up so they could leave and he could pretend like this whole past half hour had never happened.

              The day had started off innocent enough, with him inviting Beth to go hunting with him, since her ankle had healed. The blonde had impressed him, she was a quick learner. It took a while, hours actually, but she had finally managed to track down a deer and down it with a shot to the chest. It wasn’t a clean shot, but Daryl finished the animal off almost as soon as it hit the ground. The young woman had been so proud, jumping all around before hugging him in a way that had him blushing beet red like a fucking idiot.

              Beth had continued helping as he showed her how to skin and gut the deer before quartering it up into manageable loads to carry back. Once they had finished, they were both covered in a good amount of blood and sweat, even by apocalypse standards. Daryl hadn’t minded, but Beth obviously had other ideas, especially when she heard the sound of running water on their way back to the funeral home.

              “You hear that,” Beth had asked him, perking up with renewed energy.

              “Yeah, it’s a creek,” he had answered naively, “can fill up our bottles, can come back later with bigger containers.”

              “Well, we can do that too,” the blonde had answered with a smile that immediately told him she was about to drag him along with whatever crazy plan she had just concocted.

              Then, the young woman had grabbed Daryl’s hand, causing his brain to all but short circuit, and led him down to the river.

              “This is perfect,” Beth had gushed, “I haven’t bathed in forever! I don’t even know if I know what it feels like to be clean anymore. I really didn’t want to sleep in that deer’s blood tonight. You will stand watch, won’t you?”

              The hunter shouldn’t have nodded, should have come up with some excuse, any excuse, for them to keep moving. However, he was putty in Beth’s hands when she turned those big, blue eyes of hers on him.

              “Thank you Daryl,” the young woman had exclaimed, turning and making her way down to the water’s edge.

              The archer watched her kick off her cowboy boots, accepting that he would just have to deal with the way he was sure her wet clothes would cling to her body for the next few hours until they dried. The gruff man was already constantly distracted by everything about her, her smile, her silly braid, and the way the blonde hummed when she was lost in thought. This would just be one more thing to add to the list of things he shouldn’t notice but did.  He even considered going in after she finished, he hated getting his vest wet but it probably needed a good washing.

              Beth jumped into the water with a small, contained squeal, not loud enough to draw walkers but just audible enough to make Daryl smirk. He was content standing there watching over her, seeing her smile and splash about like some fucking fairy creature in the middle of the forest. At least, until he noticed what the water did to Beth’s white tank top that is.

              The first time the blonde came back up after dunking her head underwater, her tank became almost transparent, so that Daryl could plainly see her bellybutton and above that, the light pink bra she was wearing. Immediately, he spun around and had assumed the position he had remained in since. His breathing came in quick, shallow spurts and all he wanted to do was run in the opposite direction. However, he wasn’t about to just leave Beth defenseless as she bathed in the middle of the damn forest. Why had he let her talk him into this in the first place? He already felt like a fucking pervert enough of the time without this added temptation.

              After what seemed like ages, Beth finally finished and made her way out of the water. Daryl’s ears were hyper alert as he took in the crunching sound of the rocks as the young woman put on her boots and made her way over to his side.

              “Thanks, I really needed that,” the blonde chirped with a big smile on her face as she picked up her sack of venison.

              This had to be the first time Daryl had seen Beth with her hair down. The golden strands were framing her face and dripping water onto her chest. Which led his eyes unwillingly downward to take in her body beneath a fine film of dirty, off-white material.

              “Hmph,” the archer began, clearing his throat, unsure of how to bring up this particular issue, “Beth, ahhhh, yer shirt….it’s….”

              The blonde looked down and her cheeks flushed a light pink to match her bra.

              “Yeah, well it is a white tank, despite how much walker blood and guts I’ve spilled on it,” she muttered, “ain’t like there is much I can do about it except let it dry. I don’t have any other clothes and I didn’t want to sleep covered in deer guts.”

              “What happened to that yellow shirt of yers,” Daryl asked desperately, surely the girl had something, anything else to wear.

              “I cut it up,” the blonde admitted, looking guilty.

              “What the hell did you do that for,” the archer asked, this being news to him.

              “Ya know,” Beth said, looking as embarrassed as he was now, but her cocked eyebrow wasn’t conveying any message to him.

              “No, I sure as hell don’t know,” he grumped, not seeing any good reason to cut up a perfectly good shirt.

              “It was…,” Beth started, trailing off, seeming to hope he would catch on.

              The only thing the hunter could do was stare at the young woman cluelessly, while trying not to actually stare at her.

              “I got my period,” she suddenly blurted out, “It’s not like there is a grocery store I can just go to anymore and I just….”

              “Okay okay,” the archer quickly interrupted, holding his hand out to stop her, not needing or wanting to hear any more.

              “Can we just start heading back,” plead Beth, looking utterly mortified at their whole conversation.

              “Hold on,” Daryl stopped her, grabbing her arm before she could walk off.

              He swung his backpack off and began digging through it for his backup shirt. Finally, he pulled it out. It was a dark blue, well-worn shirt with the sleeves cut off in his traditional style.

              “Here,” he offered, holding out his only other clothing to the girl in front of him, “put this on.”

              He could see the blonde sag with relief at being given the option to preserve some of her modesty and she gratefully took the article of clothing from his hand. Swiftly, Beth pulled the shirt on over her tank and buttoned it up.

              “Better,” she questioned, looking over at him for confirmation.

              The dark shirt made Beth’s blonde hair and fair skin shine just that much brighter. The blue in it made her eyes even more mesmerizing, something he hadn’t thought possible. The way his shirt, which fitted him just comfortably, fell loose on her much smaller shoulders made her look even more petite.

              “Hmmm,” he mumbled with a shrug, trying to pretend like it didn’t do anything to him see Beth Greene standing there in front of him in his very own t-shirt.

              It wasn’t like that, this was innocent, this was practical. However, a very different part of his brain, a more primal part, argued that it in fact was much more than just being a good chaperone and covering her up. A shirt was a claim.

              “Ain’t like that,” he told himself, “ain’t even fuckin close. Beth wouldn’t want some redneck asshole thinking of her like that, just fuckin stop.”

              Luckily, the blonde must have took his mumbled answer as a positive one, because she was soon grabbing her pack again and looking a lot less flustered.

              The whole way back to camp, Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off her. God, he had thought it would all be over once she finished in the river, but it was like the ways to tempt him and drive him fuckin insane had just begun.

              That night, they roasted the venison over a fire Beth had built in the front yard. The pair had stuffed themselves until they couldn’t take another bite. Once dinner was finished, they had somehow ended up laying down, side by side, in the grass, looking up at the stars. The young woman’s arm was pressed up against his as she went on about the different constellations. Daryl wasn’t really looking at the stars, he was too fascinated watching the girl next to him.

              When Beth turned and caught him staring, he couldn’t help but feel guilty and quickly looked away.

              “What,” she asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

              “Nothin,” he quickly brushed off, careful not to give any indication of the inappropriate thoughts going on inside his head.

              “Had to be something,” she pushed, staring at him with an intense look in her eyes.

              “Yeah,” he begins, finding a way to divert the conversation, “thinkin we should have saved some of the heart or the brains of that deer to eat, some people would consider that a delicacy.”

              “Ew,” Beth said, her nose crinkling at the thought, but no longer hounding him for answers.

              The blonde sat up and Daryl figured his little talk had done enough to drive her away, but she didn’t stand up. Instead, the farmer’s daughter began unbuttoning his shirt.

              “My tank is dry now,” she said, holding the clothing out to him, “thank you for letting me borrow your shirt. It was surprisingly comfortable, maybe you are onto something with cutting all the sleeves off your clothes.”

              “Ya can keep it,” Daryl blurted out before his mind caught up with his mouth.

              He flushed all the way from his face down to his neck, but luckily it had become dark enough that Beth probably couldn’t tell.

              “Need somethin more than just a tank,” He quickly pointed out, trying desperately to not sound like some weird perverted ass, “sides, it is a tougher material, will protect you more. And that white tank is just too fuckin visible, better to wear darker shirts, helps ya blend in better.”

              “But it’s your only other shirt Daryl,” the blonde argued, seeming genuinely concerned about him.

              “Only need one shirt,” he muttered, looking away from Beth and up at the sky, “sides, it was gettin kinda small anyway.”

              That is a complete and utter lie. He fucking liked that shirt, he just liked seeing Beth wearing it even more.

              “Really,” the blonde breathed, looking down at the clothing in her hands like he had presented her with a fucking silk blanket and not some worn, unwashed shirt.

              Suddenly, Beth was leaning over him, blocking his view of the night sky. She bent in close, causing Daryl to all but have a heart attack when she pressed her pretty pink lips to his rough cheek.

              “You’re a good man Daryl Dixon,” the young woman said as she sat back up.

              That only made Daryl feel worse because he sure wasn’t giving her that shirt out of the pure, innocent goodness of his heart. In fact, he was probably going to hell for it. However, when his companion slide her arms back into the holes, leaving the front unbuttoned, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

              The next few days were uneventful, but increasingly stressful for Daryl. It was like everywhere he turned, he would see Beth wearing his damn shirt. She often layered it over her tank, but on occasion, Daryl would get glimpses through the gaping armholes of soft skin and her bra, that told him it was the only shirt she was wearing. When that happened, his brain would freeze as it began along the track of how his own skin had touched that material and now her skin was touching it, but that was as far as he would let the thoughts go. Girl didn’t deserve to have him thinking of her that way.

When Beth buttoned the shirt up but left the bottom unbuttoned and tied it tight around her waist, Daryl’s thoughts would drift to what it would be like to undo that knot and run his hands along the sliver of skin that he could see poking out. He had never wanted to touch somebody like this before, never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Beth. All of Daryl’s life, he had associated touch with pain and now suddenly it was like Beth had flipped some switch in him that had him craving to touch her and be touched by her. He loved when she would kiss his cheek or head before they went to bed, the way she would randomly hug him when she got excited, or how sometimes she would hold his hand as she led him places.

It was all these things that kept Daryl from talking about their future, whether they would stay at the funeral home or leave in search of the others. This was the happiest he had ever been and he didn’t want it to end when he asked Beth to stay and she would inevitably tell him she wanted to leave, that she wanted more than hanging out with his redneck ass. So each day, Daryl put it off a little further, until finally he was pissed at himself, because Dixons were not afraid of anything, especially not rejection by a cute, sweet blonde who was too good for him anyway.

So that is why he was fidgeting around at dinner, focusing on his pig’s feet rather than the girl beside him. It was time to finally make a decision and while he knew what Beth would want, he wasn’t ready to hear it. The blonde was busy writing on a piece of paper she had found, her pencil moving in lovely loopy strokes that was infinitely better than his chicken scratch.

“Whatcha writing,” he finally asked, figuring any talk was a step closer than just sitting and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m gonna leave a thank-you note,” Beth informed him, looking up as if wanting his thoughts on the subject.

“Why,” he asked, already feeling his heart drop, the girl obviously was planning on leaving, he didn’t know what else he had been expecting.

“For when they come back,” she told him, “if they come back…even if they are not coming back I want to say thanks.”

She amazed him, how much she thought of others, how optimistic she could be. As he watched her continue writing her letter, he suddenly was hit with just how much he wanted this, how much he wanted her even if their relationship was never any more than him just protecting her, teaching her how to hunt, and talking to her when they ate.

“Maybe you don’t have to leave that,” he managed to choke out, staring as hard as he could at the food in his hands, not daring to look at her face.

“Maybe we could stick around for a while,” he continued, the words somehow still coming, “they come back, we will just make it work.”

Daryl finally risked looking up and was shocked to see Beth staring at him, listening like this was actually a viable option, like she wasn’t ready to run out the door to find someone other than him to hang out with.

“They may be nuts,” he quickly said, trying to stay realistic, “but maybe it will be alright.”

Beth was smiling at him now and suddenly Daryl didn’t feel so dumb for what he just said, like Beth actually thought it might be okay to stay here with him, like she wasn’t just stuck with him.

“So you do still think there are good people around,” she announced with a grin like she had just won, which of course she had.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. I had a bit of writer's block for the next chapter and didn't want to publish this one until I had a solid plan and made sure they flowed together. I should have the following chapter out soon. I appreciate y'alls support!

**Beth’s POV**

“What changed your mind,” Beth asked with a grin, staring across at her companion who was obviously struggling with this conversation.

The blonde had learned a lot of surprising things about Daryl Dixon in the past several weeks of them surviving together. Before she had known he was a good man, loyal and protective of her group, maybe a little rough around the edges but just as good as Rick or her daddy. This past week was different though, with just the two of them constantly in close proximity, she had seen another side of the archer. She had seen him cry, laugh (more of a chuckle really), and had heard him talk about his time before the end of the world. He hadn’t said so, but Beth was sure he had never told anyone else so much about his past. She was the first person he had ever trained on the crossbow, during which she had found him to be a good and patient teacher, which surprised her almost as much as it did her instructor. Daryl liked dogs, he had always wanted a dog growing up.

There was so much to uncover and it was so special because Daryl didn’t just give these little tidbits of personal information away like other people did. Each new thing Beth learned about her companion was like a small treasure that she filed away in a locked chest, close to her heart. However, in all the time Beth had known him, she had never heard Daryl admit that he was wrong, that he truly believed things could be different. Knowing what she knew now, Beth understood why Daryl was so pessimistic (or realistic depending on how you look at it), why he was wary of strangers, and why he did his best to shut everyone out. For Daryl to admit that there might still be good people, that he was willing to hope that if the former occupants of the funeral home showed back up that they could work it out and live in peace, meant that something had drastically changed his entire world view. Not that that was a bad thing in Beth’s opinion, but she just had to know what had caused this complete one-eighty in the hunter’s perception of the world.

“You know,” the archer answered softly, like he hoped that would answer her question.

The hunter looked down at the can of pig’s feet in his hands, letting his long, dark locks fall over his eyes. Awkwardly, the archer spooned a couple pieces into his mouth, as if that gave him an excuse not to talk. It didn’t bother Beth, she was used to Daryl not being forthcoming with his thoughts. What the blonde used to think was just a taciturn, withdrawn nature, she had found out was something else entirely. Due to his upbringing, the rough man often seemed to think that his thoughts and his opinions, were not worth sharing, that nobody would care what he had to say. It was really sad, because he was actually very smart and he had a lot to say, he had just never had anyone to really listen. It broke Beth’s heart and since she had realized the reason behind Daryl’s silence, she had been trying to show him that what he had to say was worth something.  When Beth pushed him to talk, she did it carefully, she did it with a smile, she never laughed, and she let him take his time to answer.

“What,” she encouraged, grinning because whether he decided to tell her or not, she was just happy that he had changed his mind, that he was finally healing, maybe burning down that shack had helped.

“Mmmm,” the archer mumbled noncommittedly, looking down at the can of pig’s feet, which had suddenly become very interesting.

“Don’t mmmm,” she admonished gently, imitating him, “what changed your mind?”

The blonde expected Daryl to look away, to suddenly find some obscure task that needed to be done, or to simply ignore her, but he did something she never expected. The archer looked up from the food in his hands and stared straight into her eyes. The only times Beth had ever seen the older man make direct eye contact for any length of time was when he was glaring them in either a warning or a challenge, but this time was different, it was softer. In that moment, Beth realized how blue Daryl’s eyes were, how expressive and communicative they were, unlike the rest of him.

As soft as those eyes were when they looked at her, they were also fierce. Not fierce in the way the archer glared at the Governor or a herd of walkers, but fierce in a way that told Beth if something were to ever go wrong, Daryl would instantly be between her and any danger. Fierce in a sense that he would follow her anywhere she should want to go, even if it was for something as dumb as a bottle of booze. That he would always be near her, watching over her, protecting her.

The depth in Daryl’s eyes made Beth realize something. All the boys she had thought she had cared about before, they were just crushes, fleeting feelings that had felt like giant waves but now were nothing compared to a tsunami. The way Jimmy made her stomach tingle, the way Zack made her blush, those feelings were nothing compared to what Daryl’s stare was doing to her right now. All the sweet nothings Jimmy had whispered in her ears, all the promises Zach had made, they all fell silent compared to what Daryl’s eyes were telling her, what they were promising her.

Those stormy blues were looking at Beth like she was the last light in a dark world, like she was his hope, like she was the reason there were still good people. The flickers of light dancing in those blue irises told Beth that he was going to make things work if the owners of the funeral returned, but not for himself, but for her. They told her that he would do anything for her.

It suddenly began to click, all those moments where Beth thought it was just her imagination or that Daryl was just being a good guardian and instructor, maybe it had been so much more all along. From the very beginning at the farm, he had given her a weapon, helped her deal with the walkers in the barn even though she was a complete stranger, and saved her when her home was being overrun. He was the only one who noticed her enough to realize she had seen the future and confronted her about it. Then, at the prison, the way he trained her to fight and taught her to drive. He was the one who found her when Merle had taken her to the Governor. Suddenly all the glares at Zach, the hugs he allowed her to give him, and the way he had opened up about his past was starting to make sense. She remembered the time Merle said Daryl was nice, but not that nice, not for no reason. The closed off man had repeatedly opened up to her, let her touch him, let her use his crossbow, and had almost literally given her the shirt off his back.

Beth had seen this moment, at least the beginning of it, but she never realized how much it meant until right now. Maybe there was a reason why Daryl had shown up so much when she had seen her future, maybe it was because he is her future.

“Oh,” Beth breathed, now it was her turn to be speechless.

Before Beth could gather her thoughts to answer him, to even begin to tell him that she felt the same way, a clanking sound interrupted their moment, which was followed by a dog barking.

“Ugh,” Daryl muttered, putting down his food, but Beth sensed he was relieved by the interruption, ‘I’m gonna give that mutt one more chance.”

He grabbed a can with some pig’s feet, she assumed to offer to the stray dog, and quickly left the kitchen. Up until now, Beth had thought that she was the only one who felt something. It was just like tracking, all the signs had been there but she hadn’t been able to read them until now. She had been trying to figure out the mystery of Daryl Dixon and now that it was all falling into place, it seemed so obvious. Beth got up, wanting to go tell Daryl just how she felt, but at that moment the sound of walker groans filled the house, making the hairs on her neck stand on end.

“Beth,” came Daryl’s desperate yell and she hurriedly grabbed his crossbow before heading towards the front door.

When she came out of the kitchen, she found the archer bracing the front door against a small horde of the undead, struggling to keep them from bursting into their home. He motioned for her to throw him his crossbow and she did without hesitation.

“Run, run Beth,” he yelled at her, before turning and letting the door open so he could take down some of the walkers.

There was no way she was leaving him there on his own, Beth loved him, she realized in that moment. Daryl might not be some prince charming, but he was the best man she had ever met, he would do anything for her, and he didn’t need to try and do this on his own.

“Beth,” yelled Daryl, “pry open the window! Grab your shit!”

The blonde of course had already grabbed her stuff, Daryl’s as well. She began frantically working to get a window open, if she could they could both escape.

“Get out,” Daryl ordered.

“I’m not going to leave you,” she promised him, as she broke several fingernails wrenching the rusty latch to the side to open the window.

She shoved the window up, making enough room to get out. Walkers were suddenly flowing past the hall and into her room, they were between her and Daryl. The blonde began to take her knife out when the archer yelled at her again.

“Go out,” he commanded, “go up the road, I will meet you there!”

There were too many walkers and the older man was already far past the room she was in. Beth threw their bags out the window and climbed through, falling clumsily onto the ground, but out of the reach of the grasping corpses. Beth didn’t run down the road though, instead, she threw their bags a safe distance away and headed back towards the front door, taking out as many walkers as she could in the yard. Her heart was pounding, her mind was racing, Daryl was a force to be reckoned with, but that was a lot of walkers for him to handle on his own in an enclosed space.

“Don’t think about that now,” she told herself as her knife slid into the decaying face of what had once been a young teenage boy, “you have to kill as many of these things as you can, otherwise they will just be drawn into the house and it will be even harder for Daryl to escape.”

“Over here,” shouted Beth, trying to draw some of the horde away from the house.

The blonde had never taken on so many walkers at once, but she was determined. Pulling her knife out of the last corpse, she quickly plunged it into the next, while side-stepping to avoid another shambling body that was reaching for her. Her ankle began aching, but she pushed on, there was no way she was going to let these things get to Daryl, she had to take out as many as she could. A dead hand grabbed her wrist and Beth yanked it away in terror, quickly kicking out at the walker to push it back. She was so focused on killing the walkers, she didn’t even think about there being any other danger to worry about until something hit her squarely on the head, causing her vision to blur and her legs to collapse beneath her.

The blonde could hear each shallow, desperate gasp for air that her lungs made, it was like the sound was suddenly overwhelming her with how loud it was. Out of nowhere, she felt hands on her legs and arms, hoisting her into the air and shoving her into somewhere dark. Her head spun as she rolled into the space and the blood in her head seemed to be pounding so hard she thought her head would burst. Over the pain and her breathing and the throbbing in her head, a faint yell reached her ears.

“Beth,” came the voice, so desperate and strained and full of pain that it was almost indistinguishable as Daryl’s, “Beth!”

“Daryl,” the young woman whispered weakly, trying to get up to find where the voice was coming from.

However, the effort to get up was too much and with a final rush of blood to her head, Beth fell unconscious. When the blonde opened her eyes, she was staring out the window of a hospital and a woman in a police uniform with dark brown hair pulled back into a bun was speaking harshly to her.

“So, it seems you are a pretty popular girl, you and that other patient” the woman snapped at her, causing her to flinch, “have a whole group here just for the two of you, they are demanding that we hand you over before they give us trouble.”

Beth could feel the anger build in her but she continued staring out the window, focusing instead on the freedom so close to her fingertips.

“You should listen to them,” Beth said simply, because she knew her family could do anything, they were so much stronger than the community at O’Grady, because they worked together instead of tearing each other apart.

“You of all people should know I can’t,” Dawn snapped, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her so that they were facing each other, “you know how close I am to losing my command with everything that has gone on lately, which you have had your fair share in! I have done so much for you, you were weak, injured, unable to care for yourself! I took you in, gave you medical care, food, and covered for you when you killed O’Donnell, I didn’t tell anyone, you owe me! You owe me, I want you to stay here because I cannot have people thinking they can just abandon their debt, their responsibility to this hospital! We have a system and I need everyone to know that no one is an exception! Besides, you need to be here, you won’t make it out there anyway!”

“I have been making it out there just fine until you showed up,” the blonde yelled, yanking her arm away, “I don’t owe you anything, everything you ever did for me was really to help yourself.”

“I see,” the woman’s eyes narrowed, an evil gleam coming into them, “however I’m telling you right now you won’t make it out there, by out there I mean out of these doors. I don’t let people leave, that is against the rules, you haven’t paid your time yet. I can’t appear weak in front of my people. So you have two options, you can either stay here with me or you can try to leave and if some of my men accidently hit one or two of your group on the way out when they are aiming for you, well that can’t be helped. You won’t be leaving either way, so make your choice. I don’t want to kill you but if I have to make an example of you, so be it. Grab that patient and get over here.”

With that, the police woman turned on her heel and Beth hurried to get Carol, who was in a wheelchair, and followed her out the door and down the hall. All around her, people from the hospital were staring. The people held against their will had a look of hope, one that had started as a small flicker when Noah got away and now was growing stronger seeing Beth head towards her group. The officers stared as if she had suddenly grown a third eye, as if they didn’t understand who she was all of a sudden. The doors opened and suddenly her family was staring at her, but she only saw one set of eyes. They were dark blue and stormy with anger, but when they landed on her there was the smallest light. The archer’s hands tightened around his crossbow and it took everything in Beth not to run right into his arms.

“All we want is Carol and Beth and we will leave,” said Rick, stepping forward, “we don’t want any trouble but we are not leaving without them.”

Murmurs rippled through the other prisoners, who were watching the confrontation with great interest. Dawn’s eyes tightened at the sound of discontent in her community.

“Beth belongs to us until she pays back her debt,” Dawn said firmly, repeating the rules of the hospital, “we saved her life and now she must work for us. Y’all are welcome to join us.”

There was a silence and then Rick stepped forward, his eyes narrowing on the other leader.

“Beth belongs to us because we are her family,” he said in a way that made people stop to listen, “and we are not the kind of people you want to mess with. I think I have made myself very clear and I am not interested in asking a second time.”

Beth could see the cogs whirling in the policewoman’s mind, looking for a way out, a way to keep everyone under her strict rule.

“Fine,” the woman said, all too suddenly, “but he isn’t your family. He belongs to us.”

The hospital leader was pointing at Noah.

“He stays,” she said smugly, as if she had found a way to trump Rick.

Before Rick could say anything, the young man stepped forward.

“I’ll go back,” he agreed, “but you let Beth go.”

All the prisoners shifted, watching as the only person to ever escape Grady was about be drug back into hell. However, there was still an excitement in the air, seeing Beth have a chance to leave. That was the exact feeling that the older woman wanted to squash, she wanted to extinguish their hope, control them, use them. Beth couldn’t let that happen, she wouldn’t agree to stay here and give in to this woman’s control over her life, she wouldn’t try and walk out this door just to be shot and used as an example of Dawn’s power. No, she was going to take away what this woman wanted the most, the power to make Beth do what she wanted and use her to increase her control over the victims of the hospital.

She wanted to run into Daryl’s arms, hug all her family, ask if they had seen Maggie, but she couldn’t do that. If she did, she could be happy with them for a little while and then this woman would hurt them. Staying wasn’t an option either, Beth refused to stay in this hellhole. There was only one choice. She stepped forward hugging Noah, who like her was now in the middle of the two groups. Over his shoulder, she looked over at Daryl and for just a second, their eyes connected and it was like everything was okay. Beth gave him a small smile, before turning around. She could hear a shuffle, which she could only assume was Rick holding Daryl back. Beth faced the leader of the hospital, squared her shoulders and walked right up to the woman.

“I get it now,” Beth told her, reaching for a pair of scissors she had been hiding.

She had to die, not the way the policewoman wanted, on her own terms, it was the only solution. The only way this evil woman couldn’t use her or her death for her own purposes, the only way for her to escape this hospital, keep her family safe, and to show the other prisoners that they needed to be defiant. She had to be an example to them, show them how to fight. With that last thought, the blonde plunged the scissors into the woman’s arm. As the policewoman pulled her gun, it was like everything was in slow motion. Beth wished she could turn to look at Daryl one last time, to apologize to him, to explain why she had to do this, but she couldn’t, things just seemed slow but they were actually happening really fast.

There was a bang and suddenly, Beth’s body fell away from her and she remained standing up, looking down at her crumpled corpse, blood quickly staining her blonde hair. An arrow suddenly flew threw her non-physical chest and embedded itself into the woman’s head. The blonde gasped and turned around to see Daryl standing there, his crossbow drawn and a look of absolute horror and anger on his face. The anger quickly disappeared and was replaced by something much worse, a terrible sadness. He stood over her body, his mouth trembling, his fingers shaking badly, before he fell to his knees and pulled her into his lap sobbing. It was the most heartbreaking thing she had seen, Beth wanted to comfort him, to touch him, but she was a ghost, unable to reach the archer. This was her fault, she should have searched harder for another way, she should have found a better solution, because the answer could never be one that hurt Daryl this much.

Suddenly, the world went black and Beth groaned in pain, she assumed from the gunshot. She didn’t know why she was suddenly feeling pain if she was already dead. That is when Beth opened her eyes. A bright light hung over her, making her quickly shut her eyelids again.

“She’s waking up,” came a male voice and there were sharp steps that made their way over to her.

“It’s okay,” said a man with glasses and a lab coat, followed by the policewoman from her dream who was no longer dead, “it’s okay. I’m Dr. Steven Edwards and this is Officer Dawn Lerner. How are you feeling?”

Beth’s eyes flicked between the two new people, trying to decide what to make of the situation. What she had just witnessed had been so confusing, was it all just a dream?

“Do you remember your name,” pushed the doctor, staring at her with a concerned expression.

“Beth,” she said softly, no longer used to introducing herself.

“How did I get here,” she asked, her head pounding as she tried to sit up in bed, only to have the world start spinning.

“I wouldn’t get up just yet, you suffered quite an injury,” cautioned Dr. Edwards, starting to move towards her but stopping when she flinched away.

“My officers found you on the side of the road, surrounded by rotters, alone,” Dawn answered curtly, as if she were reading a script.

“Your wrist was fractured and you sustained a head wound,” Steven explained.

“The man I was with,” Beth asked desperately, already feeling like she knew the answer, “is he here too?”

“You were alone,” Dawn answered abruptly, cutting off her hopeful question, “if we hadn’t found you, you would be one of them.”

Everything in Beth screamed that the policewoman was lying to her.

“So you owe us,” Dawn concluded, staring at her with the same dangerous desire to control her that Beth had seen in her dream, or was it a vision?

The blonde didn’t know what was happening, all she knew was that in her heart they were lying to her, but she couldn’t let them know that. Even if what she had seen was just a dream induced by her injury, she had learned to trust her gut in life or death situations and right now her gut was screaming that there was something wrong here.

“Follow me,” ordered Dawn.

Beth hung her head down timidly, trying her best to radiate helplessness and naivety, which wasn’t hard since most people wrote her off as such anyway. This small gesture told her everything she needed to know, because it caused Dawn to smile like a lion who suddenly had prey in it’s sights.

**3 weeks later**

Beth stared out the window, hoping Noah had escaped fine even with his injured leg. As long as he had gotten away, then her sacrifice had been worth it, it had meant something. Having to kill Gorman was worth it, getting beat up by Dawn was worth it, and being stuck here was worth it. Her stomach grumbled but Beth paid it no mind, it was minor compared to her other problems. She wasn’t planning on staying here just because of one beating, one failed attempt wasn’t going to break her spirit.

The young blonde can still remember the cutting words of Dawn, how the cruel woman told her she wasn’t strong enough for this world. However, Daryl thought she was and his opinion was the only one that mattered to her. She had survived this long and if her visions of the future were anything to base her opinion on, she would walk out of this hospital with her family. However, the other vision she had, the one not produced by the prospect device, the one she had when she was unconscious, it worried her. Sometimes it made her think that there were two possible endings to her story. She pushed the horrible thought out of her mind, she couldn’t let herself go down that road.

She missed Daryl even more than she missed Maggie or her daddy or the prison. After a cruel beating or when Gorman had been harassing her, she would think back to sitting in the kitchen of the funeral home with the hunter, to how at peace she had felt. They had told her when she got here that they had found her unconscious, surrounded by biters, with no companion around. That was a lie though and Beth knew it because there was no way Daryl had left her there alone in danger and she knew he was alive because she had seen herself walk out of a hospital and be greeted by the hunter and her sister. They were both alive, she just had to stay strong and she would see them both again, she would see her family again. She knew there was no way Daryl could track her to here. For her to have gotten this far away in so short of a time, they must have driven in a vehicle and cars left no tracks on roads, nothing for even the most skilled hunter to follow.

However, she had confided in Daryl, told him about her visions, even the one about her being reunited with him and Maggie in front of a hospital. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was a hint, a clue for him to find his way to her. She just had to stay alive long enough for him to find her and once he found her she had to made sure she stayed alive long enough to walk out of this building. The blonde made her way to the bottom bunk that was her designated bed. She didn’t have much that belonged to her. When she had woken up, she had been cleaned and her clothes already changed to scrubs. The necklace her mama had given her was gone, the knife Daryl had given her was gone, even her hair tie was gone. By a stroke of pure luck, when Beth was on trash duty, to pay back the hospital for “saving her”, she had found her old clothes in the dumpster. Quickly, she had pulled them out and hidden them underneath her cot, too scared to wear them out of fear that they would be taken away. Some nights, when she was really lonely, the young woman pulled out Daryl’s shirt and buried her face in it, wishing she was back in the archer’s arms. When day came, she was always sure to put the shirt away, safe from the prying eyes of the hospital that would take anything of joy away from her.

“Beth,” came the cutting voice of Dawn Lerner, who was glaring at her in disapproval from the doorway, “come with me.”

Just seeing the horrid woman made Beth’s face ache from where she had been slapped so hard her cheek had split open. The blonde had another scar on her head, from when she had been knocked unconscious. There is a cast on Beth’s right arm. They had told her a bone was broken, but she thinks they really just put it there to keep her from being capable of fighting or defending herself. She is sure of this because she had broken her wrist falling off a horse as a kid and remembers how it ached and iched during the healing process. Her wrist right now feels fine.

“You are needed to help Dr. Edwards,” Dawn begins, making Beth’s stomach drop and her steps falter.

Even before Dr. Edwards used her to kill the only other doctor at the hospital, she had hated working with him. It was horrific to hold someone down for an amputation, to save someone’s life against their will, if Beth had her way she would never see the man again. Suddenly, a harsh grip was on Beth’s shoulder and Dawn was very forcibly moving her forward.

“Look Beth,” Dawn said curtly, “you have already messed up enough in your short time here, I suggest you don’t make any more mistakes. You will do what Dr. Edward says, if I had known you would be such a handful we never would have saved you.”

That being said, Beth was thrust into a room containing the doctor, who was doing a check on a patient. When the young woman walked over and saw who it was, she had to stop herself from gasping. She recognized the older woman, it was Carol! For a split second, Beth was ecstatic that she had someone else to keep her company in this living hell, but then she was horrified that Carol would have to go through the same things she had been.

“This is patient number 0293,” said Dr. Edwards without glancing up at her, “she was brought in due to a concussion and several bodily injuries.”

Beth isn’t surprised, the same happened to her when she was taken.

“I want you to monitor her health, inform me when she wakes up,” Dr. Edwards continued, but Beth wasn’t listening.

She had to make sure her family member stayed safe. She knew what some people in the hospital were capable of, she had to find a way to stay by Carol’s side and protect her.

The young woman nodded hastily, causing the doctor to finally acknowledge her.

“I wish you would speak to me Beth,” Stevens requested, sounding genuinely lonely, “you know I did what I had to do to stay alive, that is what we all do in here.”

“There is a difference between being alive and living,” Beth found herself saying firmly, glaring up at the man who had used her to commit murder, “you may be alive but your life isn’t worth living.”

The man stared at her in shock for a moment at how truthful she was being before he coughed and focused on his clipboard and paperwork again.

“Record the patient’s heart rate, blood pressure, and other vital signs every thirty minutes,” Dr. Edwards said shortly, as if their conversation had never happened, “I will be back after I check on my other patients.”

Having said this, the man left the room, leaving Beth alone with Carol. The young woman ran to Carol’s side, grasping the older woman’s arm.

“Please wake up,” begged Beth, her eyes frantically searching the monitors, hoping against hope that her friend and her family member in everything but blood would make it, that the officers hadn’t done anything too horrible to her.  

Several hours passed and the blonde continued clinging to the other woman’s arm like a lifeline. It was like the small comfort of someone she knew and trusted was enough to start cracking the strong face she had to constantly wear. Beth felt a tear trickled down her cheek and her vision blurred, right when the hand she was holding finally squeezed back.

“Carol,” Beth gasped, “Carol! You are awake! Are you okay? What happened to you?”

“Beth,” breathed Carol, wincing in pain at the movement in her chest as she spoke “you are alive!”

The young woman stood up and wrapped her arms around her friend, trying her best to be gently but finding it hard to hold back.

“He was right,” Carol breathed softly, “Daryl was right all along.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while I want to follow Beth's journey at the hospital, I don't want to keep Beth and Daryl separated for too long. O' Grady is important in changing Beth's perception of the world and causing her to grow, but at the same time, I don't want to spend chapter after chapter on it so her time here will move along rather fast, hopefully y'all will appreciate that rather than feel like I'm moving too quickly.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a long time, I had to rewrite it multiple times before I got it how I liked it. Thank you everyone for sticking with me!

**Beth’s POV**

Beth stood on the roof of the hospital, looking out at the line that divided the city and the woods. The clock was ticking down. Carol had arrived at the hospital, which meant any moment her family could show up here and Beth wasn’t ready. The blonde had decided the dream she had while she was unconscious was in fact a vision. She had come to this conclusion because so many things mentioned in the scene had come true. She had killed O’Donnel and Carol had shown up at the hospital. This meant that there were two visions, two different ways her future could turn out based on what she did. How she was having visions, she didn’t know, but it wasn’t any crazier than the dead walking the earth. The young woman had decided that she needed to escape before her family came to save her in order to walk away from this place alive. 

There were several problems though, the most important one being how to get Carol out, closely followed by how to get the cast off her wrist. Luckily, the older woman was not severely injured and had been strengthening every day. The pair had agreed it would be best for Carol to continue to pretend to be weak and unable to walk in case that might give them an advantage in escaping. Beth hadn’t been able to talk to Carol much today, they had to be careful to not let anyone find out that they knew each other.

Getting frustrated for the 100th time at her inability to come up with an escape plan, Beth let her mind wander. There was one thing out of the horrible vision of her death that gave her hope. It was remembering the way Daryl had looked at her. If there was any question about the way the archer had felt about her, it was gone now. How much she meant to him had been plainly written across his face. As she was thinking about the hunter, there was a commotion down below at the entrance to the hospital. The blonde looked down to see Dawn and Dr. Stevens yelling at each other. She couldn’t make out what they were mad about, but she knew that since she had arrived, the doctor had been the target of Dawn’s anger more and more often. That was when it hit her, it was a far shot, but it was a chance to escape.

**One day later**

Beth slips into Dr. Edwards’s room, which is full of files on patients and medical books. The man looks up in surprise when she enters the room, letting the door shut behind her. The blonde takes a big breath and remembers Daryl telling her she had changed, she sure hoped she had because she needed every bit of confidence to do this. There was only a 50% chance this would work and that chance had to do with the fact that Dr. Edwards was a coward, a coward that she thinks genuinely cared for her, as long as it was also in his best interest to help her.

“Beth,” he exclaims, his eyebrows lifting, “what can I do for you?”

“You can take my cast off,” she says simply but firmly, holding her arm out to him.

“It hasn’t even been four weeks Beth,” Dr. Edwards answers, “can’t remove it until it is fully healed.”

 “But it was never broken to begin with,” Beth insists, piercing the doctor in place with a stare.

Steven pauses for a moment, as if at a loss for words before recovering himself.

“Don’t be silly Beth,” he says, turning around to shuffle some of the paperwork on his desk, “of course your wrist is broken, why else would I have put a cast on it?”

“Same reason you had me give Gavin clozapine instead of clonazepam,” Beth asserts quietly, causing the doctor’s nervous sorting of papers to still immediately.

“That is over Beth,” he says through gritted teeth, staring at her with what is meant to be a threat but Beth has dealt with far worse people than Dr. Edwards.

 “No, it is not,” she says, putting all the emphasis she can into her voice, “it won’t be over until I’m out of here. As long as I’m around, I know what you did and could always tell Dawn.”

“You wouldn’t do that, if you were going to you would have already done so,” disagrees Steven, but all the blood is draining from his face.

“Dawn doesn’t like you,” Beth continues, “and you don’t like her. Luckily for you, I don’t like her either. So, I’m willing to keep quiet if you do two things for me.”

Beth walks right up to the desk so she could talk even more quietly.

“First, I want you to take this cast off,” she orders, “and secondly, I want you to leave the door to the emergency stairwell open early tomorrow morning, right before sunrise. Don’t even try to lie, I know you have the keys to it.”

 “Beth….,” Dr. Edwards begins, but trails off, looking at her with pleading eyes.

“If you don’t want me to tell Dawn,” Beth warns firmly, staring at him, “You are safe here at this hospital because you are a doctor, but if she finds out you have killed someone, then you can’t be trusted and you won’t be of much use to them. They will find another doctor, maybe not right away, but at some point and then they won’t need you anymore. Or you could help me and I will leave and none of that has to happen.”

 “She won’t believe you,” Dr. Edwards asserts, trying to look in control of the situation.

“Dawn didn’t believe me the first time,” Beth agrees, before continuing with an important point of her arguement “but that was before she knew Gavin was a doctor, I could tell her some very interesting things about Gavin. I can prove them too, his bag that is currently held in her office is full of medical supplies and books. ”

They stand in silence for what seems like forever before the doctor finally speaks.

“Why,” he asks, sounding genuinely confused, “why do you want to leave? It is safe here, they feed us, protect us, there is medicine, why do you want to leave?”

“They feed us so that we will stay alive so they can use us,” Beth explains, “You say we are safe here, but I find Gorman and the other men like him far scarier than anything out there. But most importantly, my family is out there and I need to find them.”

“You couldn’t protect me from Gorman,” Beth accuses, deciding not to pull any of her punches, “if I was relying on you and the rest of this hospital for protection, I would have been raped, I had to protect myself. Because of the people in this hospital I was taken away from my family. Because of you I was beaten by Dawn. I would much rather be out there than stuck in here. Helping me won’t hurt you, you can lock to door after I leave, and no one will know how I escaped. However, if I stay here, I will make sure that all this….”

Beth motions at the room and to the plate of half-finished food and the coffee mug.

“It will all go away,” Beth tells Dr. Edwards, “I will make sure that you get kicked out. But I don’t want to do that anymore than you want it to happen, so why don’t we just work together. Twenty-four hours and then you can go back to your wonderful life in this prison.”

Steven stared at her as if she were some kind of puzzle he was trying to crack, as if he couldn’t for the life of him understand why she would rather be outside than in here, despite her trying to explain it. Finally, he nodded very slowly.

**Next morning**

Beth sat on Carol’s bed, flexing her very pale, very clean hand. Dr. Edwards had cut the cast off, whether he followed through with his promise to open the door or not, she at least felt less defenseless. The blonde hadn’t slept at all last night. Beth felt excited but she was also scared to death. While the doctor had agreed to help, he could really do any number of things. Trusting someone was a risk. Dr. Edwards could run and tell Dawn, he could not open the door, he could do things she might not anticipate.

Early in the morning, before daybreak, Beth had carefully gathered a couple of granola bars she had swiped from breakfast and her old clothes (including Daryl’s shirt), storing them in a worn drawstring bag.  Once she was packed, the young woman slipped quietly from her room, careful not to wake any of the other women up. She had made her way to the infirmary, meeting very few people along the way and when she did she was careful to duck into another hallway. When she made it to Carol’s room, she found the older woman asleep, thanks to the medications she had been on. They were nothing too powerful though, Beth had made sure since she needed Carol awake and alert for what they had planned.

The young woman gently nudged her friend and patient, causing the woman’s eyes to snap open. The two women nodded at each other, before Carol got up and began getting dressed in some scrubs Beth had found for her. The blonde felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. Any minute someone could see she wasn’t in her room, Dawn could come for her, or the door could be locked. However, she had to do this, not just for herself and Carol, but to keep her family from ever coming within that evil woman’s reach.

Once Carol was dressed, she sat on the wheelchair and Beth got ready to roll her out. Her friend must have been able to tell she was nervous because she reached back and took her hand. The blonde squeezed tight, hoping that she wasn’t leading Carol into a trap. They couldn’t wait any longer, the sun would come up soon and people would start to move around. Beth opened the door and wheeled Carol out. They went down the hallway, moving quietly but quickly. The young woman stood tall and tried her best to look like she was on official medical business rather than an attempted escape.

The whole walk, they only passed one person, who was prepping the kitchen for breakfast and didn’t spare them a second glance. Finally, Beth turned Carol down the corner that put the door to the emergency stairway in sight. It would either be open or it wouldn’t. The blonde couldn’t help but walk a bit faster as her adrenaline began pumping. Her ankle had healed and Beth was certain it wouldn’t cause any problems if she started running. Finally, a foot from the door, she stopped. Both women stared at the knob. After a moment, Beth reached out hesitantly, feeling as if she was about to set off a booby trap. She grabbed the cold metal firmly and gave it a solid twist, it didn’t budge.

“Fuck,” Beth whispered, her whole heart wanting to cave in with disappointment.

She had known this was a possibility, that Dr. Edwards might go to Dawn or just not follow through, however it still hit her hard. She had been so hopeful that they would escape, that this would work. Carol got up out of her wheelchair, unable to accept their fate and tried the door, wiggling and turning it more forcefully, but to no avail. Before the two women could discuss a new plan, the sound of footsteps startled them. Carol moved quickly back to her wheelchair but not before Dr. Edwards rounded the corner. He froze when he found Beth and Carol giving him the death glare. Without a word, he drew a set of keys out of his pocket and held his hands up in a surrender gesture.

“Look,” Steven began, “I’m here with the keys and I’m willing to give them to you on one condition. Before you even start thinking about trying to take them from me, I will yell and call all the policemen here in a moment if you so much as take a step in my direction.”

Beth had known it wouldn’t go as easy as she had wished it would. It was immensely frustrating to be so close to freedom, just an inch or so of metal away. She turned and looked into Dr. Edwards eyes, feeling her blood turning cold. What would he want from her?

“What is it,” she managed to spit out, feeling desperate enough to probably do anything he asked.

Reaching into his pocket, the doctor withdrew a syringe with an unknown liquid in it. Immediately, Beth felt on edge.

“I want you to take this,” he said, “it is something I have been working on for a while and I want to see if it works. Since you brought more than just yourself, if I’m helping two people escape it is only fair that you do something extra for me.”

“That could be anything,” Beth snapped, her eyes narrowing on the needle.

“Don’t do it,” whispered Carol, “we will find another way.”

That was the problem though, they were running out of time to find another way. If Beth stayed here and her group came for her, they wouldn’t all be walking out of here alive and Noah would be stuck again. Taking this unknown medicine was a gamble. Steven could be trying to kill her like he did the other doctor, but he had no real reason to when she was perfectly willing to leave and never say a word. She wasn’t a doctor, she would be gone soon, she was no threat to him, and he seemed to genuinely like her despite letting her take the blame for his murder.

“What is in it,” Beth asked, hoping to gauge his intentions better from more information.

Right as Steven was about to explain, voices sounded down the hall, heavy footsteps were headed their direction. She could hear Dawn shouting for them to find her. If they didn’t leave now, they were in for trouble. Not only would Beth and Carol not escape, if they were found together, she was sure they wouldn’t let her near Carol again.

“There is no time, do you trust me,” Dr. Edwards asked, looking ready to flee any second.

“No, we don’t take your physco deal,” said Carol at the same time Beth said, “I don’t have any other choice.”

She strode over to the doctor and held out her arm, before she could even blink, a needle pierced her shoulder. There was a second of pain and then it was gone.

The doctor strode past her and unlocked the door, holding it open for them and ushered them to hurry. Carol got out of the wheelchair, which she had continued to sit in, apparently shocked by Beth agreeing to the man’s demands. Both women quickly ran into the stairwell. The door immediately shut behind them, throwing them into darkness. Before they could find their bearings enough to start down the steps, they heard the voices.

“Dr. Edwards,” came the curt call of a police officer, “have you seen Beth.”

“I have not,” Steven replied, “I was just looking for her, as a doctor I shouldn’t be the one returning wheelchairs to the hospital wing, that is Beth’s job.”

Beth breathed a sigh of relief and both women began careful making their way down the steps, stumbling here and there. The blonde didn’t know how many flights of stairs there were, considering how high up it seemed on the roof of the hospital, she knew there had to be a lot.

“That was really stupid Beth,” reprimanded Carol at some point in their descent.

“It had to be done,” she answered simply, her stomach turning at the unknown future of what her decision had just caused.

She could be dead before they even reached the exit. Her mind kept second guessing if her heart was racing as fast as it normally would be for someone escaping captivity or if she had been given something that was going to make her have a heart attack. There was no answer. Instead, Beth just had to focus her thoughts on the immediate problem, getting out of here.

Just when they began to worry that they would never find the way out, the darkness started to break. Beth could just make out the outline of Carol’s head, sometimes catch a glimpse of where the handrail was. As they went down, it became lighter and lighter until they reached a door with a little window showing the outside. There was a driveway for an ambulance to enter the back of the hospital. It was good that the door led to the back, made them less likely to be seen escaping.

There are walkers milling around on the bottom floor of the hospital. They don’t have any weapons, but the herd is thin enough they can probably make it through, they just have to be able to get out of the gate. The gate is high and the entrance for the driveway had been shoddily, but strongly, blocked off with a pile of car parts and sharp chunks of metal, that looked dangerous to try climbing.

“Look, over there,” Carol points at a very obviously cut hole in the fence.

That was strange, surely such apparent tampering would not go unnoticed for long without being mended, which meant it must have been cut recently. Maybe someone else had escaped a similar way they were hoping to.

“It’s not too far, I think we can make it,” Beth stated, almost salivating at how close they were to freedom, but terrified of getting too excited only to fail.

“On the count of three,” Carol asked.

The blonde nodded. It seemed for a second like time stopped, all the walkers moved in slow motion, and Carol spoke each number with long pauses in between. Then, it all sped up when they burst out of the door. Immediately, all the shambling corpses began stumbling towards them, arms out-reached. Beth dodged to the left and Carol to the right, before coming back together in their run to freedom. It honestly wasn’t that hard, they were lightning fast compared to the dead bodies. The problem came when they neared the opening in the fence. A particularly large body lumbered in front of them, blocking off their escape. They didn’t have time to lure the hulking man away, the other walkers were closing in. Carol pushed the fairly new corpse to the side and ducked through the cut chain link. Beth was close on her heels but the walker had already recovered.  She tried to push him away, but she was much smaller and lighter than Carol and he barely budged.

“Come on,” screamed the older woman, holding the fence apart to make the opening wider.

Beth gave up trying to shove the corpse away, instead she ducked under his legs and shot through the hole. Before the young woman even knew what had happened, she face-planted in the dirt, a sharp pain blossomed on her ankle and there was a pulling on her leg. At first, she was horrified, thinking the walker had gotten her. However, when she turned she saw that in fact her ankle had been scrapped by the jagged wire and her shoelace was caught on one of the ends. The blonde pulled desperately as the hulking walker turned around and started reaching for her. Carol began yanking on her arm but she was stuck.

Beth began trying to kick off her tightly-tied tennis shoes when a whistling in the air was followed by an arrow blossoming out of the walker’s head, causing the corpse to fall to the ground with a thud. The young woman didn’t have to turn to know who had shot the arrow, she would have recognized that bolt among a hundred others. It didn’t matter that she was still within sight of the hospital, stuck on a fence, surrounded by walkers, she suddenly felt safe for the first time since the funeral home.

“Beth,” hollered the rough, earthy voice she had come to love.

Before the blonde knew it, Daryl had slid down on the ground beside her, deftly untangling her sock from the fence, his crossbow slung over his back and long, brown locks hanging over his eyes. His biceps rolled with every move he made, the wings on his vest as bright as if they were from an actual angel. The moment her foot was free, Beth stood up and threw herself into Daryl’s arms.

“Daryl,” she gasped into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of woods and dirt and life that she loved so much.

He didn’t say anything, but the tightening of his arms around her waist told Beth everything she needed to know. It almost hurt how hard he was hugging her, as if he was scared of letting her go, but Beth didn’t mind, she would take all the pain in the world if it meant she was with Daryl.

Footsteps came crashing around the corner of a building and Beth turned her head to suddenly find her family was in front of her. Maggie was there, looking skinnier and fiercer than ever. Glenn was grinning in a contagious way. Rick was telling some strangers to stand down. Carl was jumping around, that sheriff’s hat on his head looking like it fit him a little better than the last time she saw him. Michonne was looking as deadly and dangerous as Beth remembered, but her face didn’t look as sad anymore. They were all dirty, tired, ragged, and armed to the teeth, but they looked like heaven to the young woman. Daryl’s arms loosened so that she was free to take a step away from him, towards her family, while still clinging on desperately with one hand to Daryl’s vest, scared he would disappear if she let him go. 

“Beth,” cried Maggie, running over to her and pulling her sister into her arms, “I can’t believe it is really you!”

The blonde wrapped one arm around her sibling, feeling like all her dreams had come true. She was here with her family, her sister, and most importantly, Daryl. Soon, it turned into a sort of awkward but loving family hug with everyone piling together to hug her and say something to her. The archer stayed nearby, not that her grip was allowing him to move even if he wanted to, keeping one eye on her and one on their surroundings.

“We need to get out of here,” says Noah, who suddenly appeared by her side.

As much as everyone didn’t want to stop, the boy was right. They were too close to the hospital to be safe, they needed to get moving before the O’Grady police came looking and found them. The walkers were piling up on the fence around them, their moaning drawing more and more attention to the group.

“Come on, back to the vehicles,” ordered the former sheriff, taking off.

Rick and the red-headed man led the way, followed by Carol, Maggie, and Glenn. Next were Tyreese and Sasha, close as ever. Daryl and Beth were almost last, with Michonne, Carl, and Noah behind them. They moved with a purpose and soon the buildings were replaced by trees and they navigated the forest like a pack of wolves.

“I missed you,” Daryl mumbled, so low she almost missed it, as he scanned the trees with his crossbow at the ready, carefully not making eye contact.

It was so endearing, the way the strong hunter was shy to the point of embarrassment at admitting any of his feelings.

“Yeah, I knew you would,” Beth said, remembering their night at the moonshine shack, “I missed you too.”

The archer grunted and then faced forward, as if he had reached his limit on emotional talk for the day, but he never let her go more than a few feet from him on their whole trip. It turns out their destination was a highway, empty except for two vans, guarded, or rather watched over by a strange assortment of people. The first was a man in a black shirt and priestly collar, then a Hispanic woman who looked like she got her fashion sense from Lara Croft, another woman who looked vaguely familiar but Beth couldn’t place her, and lastly a nerdy looking man with a mullet.

They all pile in, with Maggie, Rick, Daryl, Beth, Carol, Carl, and Glenn in one vehicle and everyone else in the other.  Beth ends up between Daryl and Maggie. The redheaded man drives like the only speed he knows is the one where the gas pedal is touching the floor and Rick does his best to keep up. That is when it hits her, how tired she is. Carol must have noticed her swaying a little, because her hand is suddenly on Beth’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling,” the older woman asks, from the seat behind hers.

“I’m fine,” she answers, a bit too quickly in her hurry to keep her family from getting worried.

“What’s wrong,” Daryl immediately asks, turning his full attention on her and scanning every bit of skin he can see, desperately searching for any injury, or worse, a bite.

His eyes land on her face, the stiches she has on her cheek and across her forehead. Immediately, his steady, focused gaze turns to one of anger. Until this moment, the young woman had forgotten just how intense he stare could really be when the archer chose to look at someone.

“Just a few stiches,” the blonde played it off, not wanting her family to know about the shot since there was nothing anyone could do anyway, “they will need to be taken out at some point.”

“I’m so sorry Beth,” sobs Maggie, clutching her, “I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner, we were just coming for you when you and Carol both came out.”

That explains the cut in the fence. The blonde didn’t know just how close she had come to her deadline to escape until now.

“Those bastards don’t deserve to be alive,” growled Daryl in a scary voice, “makes me wish we did have to come in there to get you, so I could have handled them.”

“They weren’t all bad Daryl,” Beth admonishes, even though a part of her would have loved to have watched the hunter put a bolt through every last one of the officers, “there were some good people, like Noah.”

The rattling and shaking of the van makes her head ache and Beth reaches over, grabbing Daryl’s forearm before shutting her eyes.

“Can you slow the hell down,” Daryl growls at Rick at the same time Glenn, who is holding a map says, “where the hell is that maniac going?”

“Sorry, can’t stop,” Rick shouts over the noise, “we can’t lose them.”

“Fucking moron,” cusses Daryl, “why the hell is he leading this? Guy’s got more balls than brains.”

Beth can’t help but smirk at the familiar crassness that is Daryl Dixon. Funny how something like that could make her feel at home. Before she can enjoy the moment too long, her vision starts to blacken around the edges. The young woman tries to keep her head up, but it keeps dropping further and further down. The blonde fights it all she can, scared to black out again and wake up without her family, but eventually it overtakes her.

For a short while, she can still make out people talking. Daryl and Maggie’s voice calling her name. There is a lot of talk going on before Daryl is practically screaming at Carol about letting Beth take something. Then, even the voices go away and Beth fades into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that Beth and Daryl are back together, it is time for some serious Bethyl.....however, it can't come together too easily, Beth needs to deal with whatever the shot has done to her and even without that going on, Daryl isn't exactly one to accept that he is falling for anyone very easily, so we shall see how it goes!


End file.
